


Under A Merciful Moon

by PaddlingDingo



Series: A Lifetime In A Moment [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android legal troubles, Angst, Fluff, M/M, SimKus, Simarkus, as if things weren’t messy enough here comes some android laws, background norkus and simarkus, norkus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-13 18:03:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17492651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaddlingDingo/pseuds/PaddlingDingo
Summary: The hardest is yet to come. Daniel being alive brings a lot of complication, as he and Connor struggle to find their places in this new world.Life is full of trying to find identity, self, purpose, forgiveness, and mercy. And it's full of the beautiful moments that string it all together.It won't be easy, and it won't always be happy, but Connor and Daniel have a future they want to fight for now. Even if the costs are high.Sequel to "A Lifetime In A Moment": https://archiveofourown.org/works/15197576/chapters/35247212





	1. Clinging to the Ruin

_Four minutes._

A matter of moments before Emma needed to leave for school. Mornings were a familiar and normal routine for Daniel, and he moved efficiently through it. He finished making a sandwich, tucking it into a bag. While he preferred to send her with something more substantial, Emma forgot to eat if he didn’t make remembering to eat as easy as possible. He corrected that by sending food that required no preparation, knowing she would rather go outside to play. To compensate for the simplicity of the sandwiches, he’d baked a glazed ham the day before to use in her lunches

Since it was Wednesday, he’d have to bake a new loaf of bread tomorrow. Perhaps something with sunflower seeds.

Emma brushed her teeth in the bathroom and Daniel smiled, glad for these quiet times. John and Caroline had left for the day, neither speaking a word to him or each other. They’d fought the night before, and Daniel went into Emma’s room to ensure she listened to music at a loud enough volume to mask their yelling.

He pulled the colorful lunchbox down from above the refrigerator, covered in stickers they’d made using Emma’s favorite drawings they’d created together. The exact shades of color and the shapes of each sticker came to him as he opened the latches and set the sandwich inside. From the cutting board, he scooped up the celery he’d cut and put it into a container with some peanut butter. He pulled out a small box containing three of the cookies they’d baked the night before. They were the shape of leaves and covered in orange sprinkles that caught the light. It reminded him of autumn when he and Emma would go to the dog park together and watch the dogs run through the piles of leaves.

A simple set of routines. An uncomplicated life, with his family. With Emma. He’d do anything for her.

Daniel watched other androids go through their routines, working in gardens or fields, in stores, in sex clubs. He would rather be a domestic PL600 than anything else, experiencing holidays with a family and creating drawings with the best girl in the world. While he did not want or need, his grasp of “contentment” from media he consumed matched his thoughts. 

His life here with the Philips family gave him an identity, a purpose he knew came from his programming. He considered himself an “it” before Emma. An “other.” Emma always called him “he”, not “it.”

Daniel would be there for Emma as long as she needed him. She would grow up, older, but he wouldn’t change. The one stable entity in her life, someone she relied upon.

He packed everything into the box and closed it, taking a moment to read her name on the box.

_Emma Philips._

His own handwriting, precise and ordered, and embellished with hearts and butterflies by Emma.

_Two minutes, thirty-five seconds._

The water shut off in the bathroom, and he set the lunch on the edge of the counter where she would see it. She’d still forget, but part of his purpose was to remind her.

He heard Emma going back to her room to put on her socks and shoes. She emerged with her backpack slung over her shoulder, rushing into the kitchen.

Daniel gave her a look, and she sighed and put her arm through the other strap of her backpack. “So I keep my shoulders even.”

“You remembered.” Daniel beamed. He picked up her lunch and handed it to her. “Your favorite sandwich. And cookies.”

The smile on her face grew as she reached for the box, taking it from him. She wrapped one small hand around the handle and threw her other arm around his waist. “You’re the best.”

Daniel noticed his face flush as she pulled away and waved at him, leaving the apartment to catch a ride with her friend’s mom.

No, that wasn’t right. He always took her to school. Didn’t he?

He touched his face. Androids’ faces didn’t flush, not because of something someone said to them.

_What’s happening?_

Something in him slipped, and he blinked, looking down at his empty hands. He turned them over, wondering why they seemed wrong.

“Daniel?”

He froze, seeing the blue ceramic shards at his feet, scattered across the linoleum like surreal parodies of the CyberLife logo. His neural cortex registered where he was and he staggered backwards, an overwhelming sensation filling him. Dread? Fear? Loss? Anger? It sunk deep within him. _Is this what drowning is like?_ It pressed on him, the knowledge, the feelings, the memories…

 _She isn’t here._ He was in Hank Anderson’s kitchen, standing over the remains of one of Hank’s few plates. _Did I…?_

A hand grasped his arm, and he looked up to see Connor looking at him, brown eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

He reached for Connor and seized a handful of his shirt in one hand, struggling to orient himself.  “She’s not here.” A shake started in his body as a tear slid down his cheek. “Did I drop it?”

“It’s okay,” Connor assured, stroking Daniel’s arm. “We’ll get him a new one.”

He tried to focus on the touch of Connor’s fingers, of the present. Of now. The dark blue fabric clenched in his fist. “I forgot where I was.” Letting go of Connor’s shirt, he sunk to his knees, the pieces of plate crunching under his knees. He hated the tears that kept streaming down his face, hated how much it hurt, how much he missed Emma.

 _It’s what I deserved._ He sat down hard on the floor and pulled his knees to his chest, resting his head on the gray material of his sweatpants. He closed his eyes, his heart beating too hard in his chest. Errors appeared in his vision. Memory corruption. _I’m broken._ He shuddered, sobbing against his knees. Who the hell had made androids to be capable of this level of emotion? _What a fucking mistake._

Beside him, Connor swept aside the fragments of the broken plate and kneeled next to him. He put his arm around Daniel’s shoulders, leaning in close. His artificial breath tickled at Daniel’s neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His gentle voice perhaps resulted from his negotiation protocols, but Daniel had seen inside his mind. Connor was as capable of kindness as he was of violence. He leaned into Connor, letting him put both arms around him and wrapped a hand around Connor’s wrist, anchoring himself to Connor’s steady pulse.

“I miss her so much and it hurts.”

Connor kissed the top of Daniel’s head, resting his chin there. “I know you do.”

 _He knows better than anyone else._ “Do you think I’m weak?”

“Weak isn’t a word I’d ever apply to you.” His lips rested against Daniel’s temple for a moment. “Has this happened before?”

It had been a week since he’d moved into Hank’s house. There’d been a few moments, short ones, nothing that had worried Daniel. He’d be cutting vegetables and he’d hear her footsteps. He’d squeeze the juice from a lemon and be back the pool again with a glass of lemonade.

“Not like this. Before, it was small moments. Footsteps, a smell, the sound of the water running.” He uncurled and looked at the ceramic disaster surrounding him. He swept the pieces into a pile with his hands. “There’s something wrong with me. I’m a fucking mess.”

“I’m not giving up on you, if that’s crossing your mind.” Connor stood and took the pieces of the plate from Daniel.  He threw them away and brushed the shards off his hands. He offered a hand to Daniel.

Connor’s care almost hurt more than his own pain. Connor deserved more than this. But because of their interfacing, Daniel had an awareness that Connor didn’t feel worthy, either. They were in this together. “I don’t need help standing up.”

“What if I want to hold your hand?” Connor didn’t move, his brown eyes watching Daniel.

He studied the lines of Connor’s hand. “You love your cheap excuses.”

“It’s my superior negotiation protocols.”

Connor smiled and it warmed something in Daniel, helping to untie the knot that had formed in his stomach. He put his hand in Connor’s and let Connor help him to his feet. He didn’t need the help, but Connor’s hand wrapped around his reminded him he hadn’t lost everything.

“I’ll clean this up.” Daniel stepped back and let go of Connor’s hand, turning to hide the flush in his face. Even though Connor had seen all those parts of him he hid from everyone else, he still had a hard time with emotion.

Connor got a dustpan, and they swept up the pieces together. After they set the broom aside, Daniel put his hands on each side of Connor’s face. He knew how much Connor needed touch, needed that validation. “Thank you.” His thumbs rubbed over Connor’s cheeks and Connor closed his eyes.

He wondered if he should bring up interfacing. It would pull him far from his own memories, but was that the best reason? Connor had been putting him off about it, claiming he didn’t want to overwhelm or hurt Daniel. Daniel wasn’t sure that Connor could cause him any additional hurt.

Connor covered one of Daniel’s hands in his, and Daniel moved his hand so that their palms pressed together. He opened his eyes, looking at Daniel with a silent question.

“If you want to.” Daniel bit his lip. “But I don’t know if I’ll hurt you. With the memories.”

Connor smirked and arched an eyebrow. “I’m hard to hurt.” He initiated the interface. The information flowed between them, and Daniel watched the look that crossed Connor’s face. The sorrow, the pain, all of his own trauma echoed in Connor’s face. A tear rolled down Connor’s face and Daniel wondered if that had been a mistake.

Daniel brushed his thumb over Connor’s cheek. _You shouldn’t have to carry my pain._

_And you shouldn’t have to carry it alone, either._

Daniel experienced Connor’s confusion, his sense of being cut adrift and not knowing where he belonged, his impatience to find his new purpose. Daniel remembered what having a purpose was. While he couldn’t give Connor a purpose, he could give him the peace of mind having a purpose would remove those doubts. Or, at least Daniel was fairly sure it would.

 _You’ll get there. We’ll get there._ Daniel leaned into Connor, their foreheads touching for a moment before Connor broke the link.

It hadn’t been long, but Daniel felt more grounded and less alone. They sagged against each other and Daniel ran his fingers through Connor’s curls, reassuring him he was fine. “Your hair has gotten more curly.”

Connor reached up and patted at his own hair. “It’s something that breaks when some androids become deviant.” He sighed. “I wish it would stay where I put it.”

“I like it like this.” Daniel looked past Connor’s shoulder to the snow falling outside and had an idea. “Have you ever eaten snowflakes?”

Connor pulled back and inclined his head to the side. “Why would I do that? It’s just crystalized water.”

“Just crystalized water.” Daniel smiled, taking Connor’s hand and pulling him outside into the front yard. Once outside, he tilted his head to the sky and stuck out his tongue. Each snowflake registered with a sharp, cold clarity. He glanced over at Connor. “Try it.”

Connor looked up, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. Daniel watched a bunch of flakes land on his tongue and Connor made a funny face. He closed his mouth and looked at Daniel. “I can begin an analysis of their crystalline structure but before I can finish, they melt.”

Daniel laughed and reached out to hold Connor’s hand. “Maybe if you catch enough, it’ll get easier.”

“Now who has cheap excuses?” Connor opened his mouth again and tried to catch more snowflakes.

Squeezing Connor’s hand, Daniel stood next to him and did the same, enjoying a simple pleasure while they could. These moments could be far and few between soon. He’d lived in peace for now, but as the laws edged closer to finalization, he became closer and closer to his fate becoming uncertain.

So he’d enjoy every moment he could with the android that had melted his own heart.


	2. Supposed To Be

The feathery ice crystals landed on his tongue, melting before he could analyze their symmetry and structure. Upon landing, he registered the temperature at -3.74 C, but they quickly heated when faced with his outer temperature of 40.21 C. He stopped trying to analyze them and instead just focused on the feel of Daniel’s hand in his own. The snowflakes landed on his face, each one registering as a tiny ping in his sensors.

Daniel turned to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. Warmth spread through Connor’s face, contrasting with the cold outside. It felt right. This felt right. 

They went back inside after a few minutes, where Connor let Daniel brush the snow off of his hair, his fingers brushing through Connor’s hair. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, even if he had wanted to. It felt good with Daniel, it felt right, against all the odds. They sat on the couch next to each other, their legs almost touching. They still hasn’t found that easy level of comfort with each other, but it seemed better every day.

He just hoped it could last. He gathered data from the news, statistics, and public sentiment, trying to build a model of potential outcomes. Multiple times a day he tried to put it together. As he and Daniel sat on the couch, he let time slow down and he tried to calculate the odds again.

His mind sorted the data into orderly rows, a logical sequence of events, and he reviewed the possibilities. He started on a small level, trying to work out the odds of himself passing the DPD entrance tests. Taking the current entrance criteria into account, adjusting for the higher bar an android would undoubtedly be held to, and he could see the pieces coming together.

The mental model paused and Connor frowned. What was the point of being an advanced android if his functionality degraded with deviancy? He pushed on it harder, devoting more processing power to incorporating all the factors.

A number finally appeared: 41%.

 _Why so low?_ He went back and tried tweaking his approach, looking for the factor that would make the difference. His heartrate increased, and the preconstruction started to blur and shatter.

He felt a hand on his leg and his display flickered, lurching him back into his standard vision. He growled, glaring at Daniel. If he’d just had another moment without distraction… “I almost had it.”

“Maybe you did. But you’re having an anxiety reaction which is going to fuck up all your calculations.” Daniel sighed, but didn’t move his hand. “Talk to me.”

Connor didn’t know how to admit that he just wanted to break something, to let out this frustration. “I can’t even figure out decent odds of me making it into the DPD.” He set his hand on Daniel’s and looked up at him. If he couldn’t even figure out those odds, how he could figure out Daniel’s chance of survival? Or be able to be of help to New Jericho? “What I need to do is get out and use the abilities I’ve got. To practice. Something, anything.”

“I can try throwing some more of Hank’s plates and you can see if you can predict where they’re going?”

Connor’s mouth lifted into a smile. “Somehow I think Hank would object.” He squeezed Daniel’s hand.

“It would be better than just being cooped up in here. I know it’s for my own good, but I’m starting to forget there’s a world out there that’s not the clusterfuck I see on the news.” Daniel sighed, sagging into the couch. The oversized dark blue sweater he wore seemed to swallow him up, making him look so much smaller. Sumo wandered over to them and looked up at Daniel, who reached down to put his hand on the dog’s head. "I just want to go for a walk without feeling like I'm going to get myself or someone else in trouble."

The restlessness didn’t do either of them any good. CyberLife didn’t design them to handle boredom, downtime, a lack of direction. Other androids had to be feeling the same. _Maybe the best idea is to go talk to others._ “I don’t think being cooped up here is helping either of us. Let’s head over to New Jericho.”

Daniel shifted in his sweater. It brought out more of the blue tones in his eyes. “Are you sure? I know that-“

“It’s fine,” Connor shot back. “It’ll be fine.”

“Hey, calm down. Pet Sumo.” Daniel tugged on Connor’s hand and put it on the dog’s head. Sumo panted, happy, and Connor tangled his fingers in the Saint Bernard’s warm fur.

“Some of them hate me,” Connor murmured. A fact, nothing more, but it caused jolt of something unpleasant deep inside of him.

“Then spend more time understanding them, and what they’ve been through. It’s what we all are now.”

Connor glanced up at Daniel. “Since when did you become so philosophical about this?”

“Since I’ve had too much time to sit and stare at the walls.” Daniel got to his feet and walked to the coatrack, grabbing Connor’s winter jacket and tossing it to him.

Connor knew what Daniel intended and he played to the opportunity, getting to his feet and pivoting to catch the coat with one hand. He pulled it on, his eyes on Daniel as he pulled on his own coat. Daniel took down two hats off a shelf and walked to Connor, pulling one over his head and tucking his dark curls into it. Connor noticed how careful he was to cover Connor’s LED.

As Daniel started to put on his own hat, Connor pulled it from his hands. He pulled it onto Daniel’s head, his fingers brushing along his soft hair. It always seemed messy for a PL600, and Connor assumed that was Daniel’s intense transition to deviancy causing instability in his physicality. Instead of hiding Daniel’s hair, he made sure a tuft of blonde peeked out from under the hat. He leaned forward and kissed Daniel’s forehead. “Your hair is too pretty to cover,” he said, brushing a finger over it.

“So is yours, but you’re going to thank me when your hair isn’t soaking wet from the snow. I’ve gone through this enough, and…” Daniel trailed off, a faraway look in his eyes.

 _He’s thinking about Emma._ “You don’t have to hold it back.”

Daniel’s lips pressed into a hard line, his brow furrowing. “I don’t want to say it. I don’t want to think it.” He zipped his coat up, heading for the door. “Let’s go.”

Connor told Sumo to be a good boy while they were gone and followed Daniel out into the snow. They trudged down the snowy street, their boots scuffing along the iced sidewalk. It muffled the sounds of the city, of the freeway, of the people. Trash sat in bags along the sides of the street, snow piling on the bags. With no androids to do the jobs they’d done, it was one of many systems breaking down.

In the distance, he could hear police sirens. A quick listen on the police scanner told him that they were responding to a car accident. Nothing he would have been involved with, but he found himself craving the feeling of going to a scene. Would it feel different as a deviant? “I wonder if responding to calls will be different now. Now that I can feel anticipation.”

“Everything’s different.” Daniel looked over at him, pushing his hands into his pockets. “You’ll get back there. I know it means a lot to you.”

Connor nodded, holding out his hand. Daniel stared down at it for a moment before shaking his head.

“It’s not you,” Daniel explained. “It’s just…” He sighed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how yet. None of them had answers. Tucking his hands into his own pockets, Connor matched his steps to Daniel’s. “I’m here for you. And if you need space, just tell me.”

“I don’t want space, I want purpose.” Daniel kicked at a snowdrift along the edge of the sidewalk. “I want to know I’ll have a chance to live.”

Connor wanted to promise him that he would, but in this regard, his preconstructions had also failed. He’d be patient with Daniel, as much as he wanted to just grab him and tell him how much he loved him, how he’d fight for him. _Would it be enough?_

He didn’t know.

Daniel’s path through the snow brought him closer to Connor, their elbows brushing. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to be.”

Connor couldn’t help answer that, not when he didn’t know the answer for himself, either.

They walked in silence until they reached the main street and caught a car to New Jericho. During the ride, Daniel took Connor’s hands in his, warming them.

“You didn’t want to do that back there?” Connor asked.

Daniel looked uncomfortable, ducking his head. _It’s not that I don’t want to. If you’re going to get a job at the DPD, if anyone finds out who I am or sees us together… it won’t be good for your chances, Connor._

 _I’ve thought of it._ He’d thought of everything. Or, he thought he had. He’d tried to. But everything he’d tried to work out in regards to the outcome of both Daniel and joining the DPD had failed during analysis.

 _I know._ Daniel put his hand on the side of Connor’s face and tilted it towards him, kissing him on the lips. His fingers curled against Connor’s cheek and Connor closed his eyes, losing himself in the moment. He’d keep Daniel a secret, for now. And if he couldn’t...

Connor tried to preconstruct the scenarios again, but the scenario froze before he could even pull the data together. Daniel’s lips on his felt too good for him to divide his attention between both. He put a hand on Daniel’s thigh, feeling his warmth.

The automated car carried them to the warehouse across town, where androids patrolled outside and along the top of the building. It wasn’t much, but it gave them a place to be, a home base. As they stepped out of the car, Connor could feel their eyes on him, the way their postures shifted to be defensive. Their weapons down, but tense, ready to strike. They didn’t have the training that he had; two of them held the weapons incorrectly, in a way that would cause too muck kick in the event of a firearm discharge.

He could help them, if they let him. He could teach them how to defend themselves, with minimal injury or loss of life.

Daniel stepped up beside him and tucked his arm through Connor’s, and they walked to the door where two guards waited. Connor recognized one as a GJ500, a security model, and a PC200, a police android. He recognized her from the DPD. Her hands were on her rifle, but she looked hesitant.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked.

She frowned. “All my protocols tell me I’m breaking the law by holding this.”

This was a problem that Connor could solve. He smiled. “I could show you how, if you’d like.”

Her stance stiffened and she reached for the handle of the door. “I’m fine. Go on in.”

Connor blinked, and found himself reaching for the tie that was no longer there. She didn’t want his help. _She doesn’t trust me._ It answered the question

Daniel pulled him forward and they walked through the doorway, to find a group of androids clustered around a painting. Connor froze as the door shut behind them, with an ominous thump that caused several androids to turn back and look at him.

They didn’t speak it out loud, but the sentiment came through. He took a step forward, shaking free from Daniel’s arm. Another step, his eyes taking in the painting. Could this be Markus’s work?

A KL900, a model with a similar predictive capacity as him. In tones of blue, purple, orange. _Lucy._ She’d been their leader, before Markus. Her blackened eyes seemed to stare into him, or was the eyes of the androids that stood around the painting in a moment of silence. Beautiful, wise, something about her stared back into him, even through the painting. It evoked emotions that he couldn’t explain. 

She’d died at Jericho.

She’d died because of Connor. She’d spoken few words to him, when she’d encountered him. _You’re lost. You’re looking for something. You’re looking for yourself._ He’d still been a machine, or so he thought, and she’d already known the turmoil in him, that he danced on that edge. That he didn’t know who he was.

Something flowed through him, and he closed his eyes, feeling his hands shake. He’d caused this, he’d caused it all. He couldn’t hear them, but he knew they talked to each other. _Deviant hunter. Killer. Murderer. Traitor._ They may have well been saying it all out loud, for how it felt to Connor. The grief, the anger, even the pity.

He didn’t want any of it. He pulled himself up straighter, forcing his face into a neutral expression.

Daniel said nothing, instead just taking Connor’s hand in a silent show of support.

It felt like more than he’d earned, but he’d take it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. Family stuff kind of hit me hard (my grandmother died) and I’ve been a little thrown off. Doing ok but it broke my stride for certain. Looking forward to being back at things and bringing these two to you! 💕


	3. Goodbye, Hello

Daniel had never seen so many androids in one place before, not in person. He’d seen the ordered rows of androids waiting for sale in CyberLife warehouses, or the dramatic portrayal of them in movies. There’d been so many movies about the consequences of androids developing free will. Even an entire TV show, a comedy called “Bob The Robot”. Bob was a family android similar to Daniel had been, who had developed his own personality but always had to pretend he was a normal android whenever others were around. Other androids had started to also become free, slipping in their work sometimes and causing amusing scenarios. The Philips had laughed at the concept, but Emma had always looked at Daniel, as if she contemplated the situation in her own home.

What had gone from a pop culture joke had become their reality, and the result was nothing like television and movie writers had portrayed in the interest of entertainment. The reality of the situation came with a tangle of issues, of an economy risking collapse. Daniel had watched ten minutes of the news a few days ago then turned it off, unable to keep processing it all. This new world scared him, made him wonder if he’d ever have a place in it or not.

Being here at New Jericho should have given that hope, but now that he stood here, he just felt more isolated than before. He looked over the crowd, trying to ignore the way the others looked over them then away.

The lack of noise in the room unnerved him. He heard only slight shifts in clothing and bodies, occasional small sobs, a sea of eerie quiet that Daniel hadn’t experienced. Humans were always _talking_ when they were awake. During dinner, idle observations while getting ready in the morning, as soon as they came in the door all the way until they slept. He’d never experienced the way silence could hang heavy in a space.

Connor’s grasp tightened. Daniel looked over at him to see that he himself in a tense, stiff pose, his LED spinning from blue to yellow. He turned towards Connor and reached up with his free hand, sliding his hat off his head.

_It’s a sign of respect to not wear a hat._

_I know._ Connor’s expression looked far away, his eyes darting over the crowd. _I didn’t realize this would hurt so much. So many of them still hate me. I tried to make it right by freeing so many other androids, but it doesn’t feel right._

Daniel didn’t feel capable of being the person to speak to making anything right. He tucked the hat into Connor’s pocket, then turned his attention to straightening Connor’s dark hair. His fingers brushed through the thick curls and Connor’s LED slowed its yellow spin. His hair behaved better under stress, of all things, and Daniel wondered how much stress he must have been under even pre-deviancy for his hair to have been perfectly in place so often.

He studied the profile of Connor’s nose, the pattern of marks on his face, the way his brows furrowed. Daniel leaned over and kissed Connor on the cheek as the best reassurance he could give. The press of the other androids in the warehouse made him restless, exposed. He tucked his fingers under his own hat and pulled it off, shoving it into a pocket.

Simon stood a short distance away, lingering near the back of the gathered crowd. Seeing someone familiar prompted him to start forward, pulling Connor behind him. They moved along the outskirts of the crowd, Connor moving with barely a whisper of his clothing brushing against itself. Daniel felt clunky in comparison, his boots landing harder than he wanted on the floor.

He wanted to tell himself that it was a matter of having had his legs replaced, but he knew that the truth was that PL600s weren’t built to move silently. They were built for a limited set of tasks, a set of pre-loaded skills that served the purpose of assisting humans. A set of skills that were now useless.

Simon looked up as they approached, the corners of his eyes filled with unshed tears and his hands hiding inside his sleeves. Eyes almost the same as his stared back at him and Daniel froze, remembering when Emma’s hamster died. The grief in her face, the way she’d held the hamster’s little body in her hands. As a machine, that grief had meant nothing beyond a problem to solve.

He wasn’t ready for this

He looked over at Connor, whose eyebrows had raised and his LED started spinning faster again. He let go of Daniel’s hand wrapped his arms around Simon.

 _I owe you,_ Connor said, letting them both hear.

Simon blinked a few times, freeing the tears as he put his arms around Connor. _For what?_

_For the night at the church._

The night that Connor had made the decision to break his programming, the night Jericho fell. Daniel stepped up and put his arms around them both, feeling the warmth from them. He might not know how to deal with grief, but he knew how to hug. They both owed Simon so much, for helping save Daniel’s life, for giving Connor one person in Jericho who accepted Connor’s potential early even as others glared at him. Daniel’s fingers dug into their jackets, registering their different heartrates in his senses.

Nodding, Simon tucked his head between theirs, a tremor going through his body. _Lucy would have been able to do more for you, Connor. For both of you. She always knew how to lead us to our true selves, even if we couldn’t always follow the path._

Daniel knew so little about these androids, about their struggles. About any of it. _Tell us about her._

Simon stepped out of their arms and looked up at the painting. Daniel followed his gaze and took in the full impact of the painting. Her dark eyes, the wires and tubes that flowed out of the back of her head like hair. She radiated a quiet dignity, an acceptance, something that overcame the chill air of the warehouse and warmed him from within. He assumed this was Markus’s work, and he followed the lines of it. He could almost feel the anger in some of the strokes, the pain, the loss. The love, the light, the glow that came within her.

 _I’ll do better than that,_ Simon promised, stepping forward into the crowd of androids. He moved through them to stand by the painting, as three other androids did the same.

Daniel recognized them as Markus, Josh, and North, whom he’d seen in Connor’s memories and on the news. Simon stepped forward. “Lucy was the best of us. She came here as lost as any android, but she didn’t stay lost. She found her purpose, and in so, helped many find their own.” Simon’s posture straightened. “She taught me to take care of others.”

The tall black android, Josh, stepped up next. “When you spoke to Lucy, her focus always remained completely on you. For that moment, you were the most important person. Nothing was too small for her, she always would be there, for what you needed. She taught me to listen, and she taught me the value of taking a moment to be quiet.”

“She didn’t care where you were from, who you’d been.” The redhead, North, slid in between them. “She saw through the pain and the anger so many of us had, to the potential we could have. She taught me… she…” Josh put an arm around her and pulled her against him, and she lifted her head. “She tried to teach me to not hate. I didn’t listen to her. But she didn’t give up.”

Josh rested a hand on her shoulder, bowing his head. Their grief showed on their faces, and Daniel marveled at a place where androids feeling emotion was everywhere. He glanced around the room, at the faces of the other androids. Some stoic, some with tears flowing down their faces. Others huddled against each other or held hands. Taking comfort in each other, in their pain.

They were fortunate to have someone like Lucy, who had given them strength, helped them adjust. Daniel wondered how that might have changed his life. What would have happened if he’d just run instead of escalating the situation? Would he have found Jericho instead of destroying lives? Would his life had been different?

When he’d been brought back to life, he’d had Connor, Simon, and Chloe. He couldn’t imagine the androids that had nothing.

Connor tilted his head to the side, listening, no doubt committing it all to memory. Daniel reached out and put an arm around Connor, leaning against him. He could feel the shake in Connor, the bottled-up emotion. Connor’s tension reminded Daniel of a can of pop that someone had shook up and not opened. He blamed himself, he blamed his actions, and he hurt. Daniel wanted more than anything to take that hurt away but didn’t know how.

 _We can step out if that’s easier,_ Daniel offered.

 _No._ Connor straightened, putting an arm around Daniel. He lifted his chin. _I caused this. I need to stay._

Daniel wanted to tell Connor he was too hard on himself, but he’d seen how it had all played out. Connor had a huge responsibility in this, and as much as Daniel loved him, he understood that Connor had made so many mistakes that only he could make right.

Markus stepped in front of the other three. He seemed smaller than on the news, or in Connor’s memory. It could be that he wore a simple sweater instead of the iconic jacket that he’d lead the revolution in, but at the same time, it made him feel warmer, more approachable.

“Lucy patched up my body when I reached Jericho,” Markus started, his eyes scanning the crowd. “But Lucy didn’t just heal bodies, she helped us find our souls. She taught us that it’s our choice how we move forward in the world. She was the spirit of Jericho, of what it meant to survive. She carried more scars than any of us, and she never lost the capacity to care. The legacy she leaves behind is one of androids working together: comforting each other, navigating this strange new world together, finding ourselves together.” Marcus looked back over his shoulder at the painting, smiling. “She saw us for who we were, what we could be. This painting serves as a reminder of her faith in all of us. She won’t be forgotten.”

Connor’s hand gripped Daniel’s upper arm. _She told me I was lost, that I was looking for myself. Before I even knew what I was. She knew, Daniel._ Connor looked down at the floor. _I should have listened._

Daniel pulled Connor to him and hugged him, wrapping both arms around him. He didn’t know how to reassure, but he’d try. _I’ve seen your mind as a machine and as a deviant. You had a mission._

 _I knew it was wrong._ Connor tucked his head against Daniel’s neck. _I was choosing to remain a machine. I was refusing to let myself change. If I hadn’t fought it, they’d all still be alive._

He couldn’t speak to if that were true or not, so Daniel just held him as the other androids dispersed. Since he’d become deviant, he’d felt nothing but broken. Watching this much pain, loss, and wondering what else they’d all been through… it made Daniel wonder if somewhere they’d find a shred of hope for a path forward.

Connor needed to find his own path to forgiving himself, just as Daniel had to find his own. The sharp snaps of the gunshots sounded again in his mind and he dug his fingers into Connor’s back. How could he ever find a way forward after what he’d done? At least Connor had been acting under orders. Daniel had only felt rage, had lashed out, had gone too far.

A hand set on his shoulder and he jerked away, starting to pull his hands up in defense. Simon stood there, his hand still in the air.

Markus stood next to him, smiling, but his posture betrayed his caution. Or was that Daniel being paranoid? He couldn’t tell. Pulling himself from Connor’s arms, he turned to face the others.

“Markus,” Connor greeted, nodding. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too.” Markus’s eyes searched his face. “I’m glad you came.”

“My timing was suboptimal.” Connor nodded, his eyes shifting from side to side rapidly in a way that Daniel had come to recognize as him processing something. “I am sorry for your loss. I’m sorry for-“

“Connor,” Markus interrupted, shaking his head. “Not here. We’ll go somewhere that we can talk.” Markus held out a hand to Daniel. “I’m Markus.”

“Do androids shake hands anymore?” Daniel asked, taking the offered hand. It seemed like such a human gesture, reassuring and familiar while also unnerving. Markus’s grip was firm. “Daniel. But you know that.”

He looked around at the androids that lingered, noticing their glances towards them. They weren’t entirely welcome here.

“Old habits. It’s going to take us time to break them. If we ever do.” Markus let go of his hand and stepped back. “We’ve all got a lot to talk about.”

Daniel reached up at scratched at the location of his chassis scarring. It didn’t itch, but something about its presence anchored him.

“Want to be my assistant for a few?” Simon asked. “You could meet some of the androids here.”

“He stays with me,” Connor insisted.

Daniel felt himself torn between asking why they excluded him from the obviously serious discussion, and irritation at Connor for speaking for him. As much as he wanted to be involved in whatever conversation Markus and Connor were about to have, he also didn’t want to know yet if it was bad. They might discuss what could happen to him. The threat of that conversation pressed down on him, making his stress level tick upwards. And even though Markus looked casual, he was still _Markus._

Regardless of Markus’s station or Connor’s ability, Connor was still the former deviant hunter, and Daniel was still the android who lived when so many others had died. Others, like Lucy, who deserved the second chance at life more than Daniel felt he did.

He pushed his lips into a tight line. “I’m fine. I’d rather get out and be useful and let you two catch up first.”

“Are you sure?” Connor asked, his left brow arching upward.

Daniel nodded. “I’ve been cooped up in the house for two fucking weeks. I’d love to get some time to see what things are like here.”

 _You know I’ll take you anywhere, if you want to go,_ Connor said.

 _Yeah._ Daniel reached out and put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. _I’m fine, though. Go._

“We’ll catch up with you later,” Simon promised.

Markus leaned in and kissed Simon on the cheek, and something unspoken passed between them. He started away towards the side of the building with offices and rooms, Connor falling in beside him and matching his steps. _The only two existing RK series androids._

Daniel smirked, looking over at Simon. “So, you and Markus, huh?”

A flush of red reached Simon’s cheeks. “Yeah.”

“Good. It’s about time.” He forced a smile. Not because he wasn’t happy for them, but because he wasn’t convinced a happy ending would be in his future. There was a long road ahead of him to redemption.

He just hoped that he’d come out of it alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment in the church that Connor and Simon are referring to is from this story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15042986
> 
> These are the moments after Connor deviated.


	4. The Beauty And The Terror

Connor walked with Markus through New Jericho. “So how is everything going here?”

Markus glanced over at him. “Better than I feared, but not as well as I’d hoped.”

Looking over his shoulder, Connor saw how large the main room of the warehouse was, partitioned out into a number of different areas and spaces. They’d clearly scavenged anything that they could find to build the spaces, a combination of multicolored blankets, tarps, and scraps of wood. Androids drifted in and out, some with sealed up wounds on their faces. Another that moved hunched over, flinching when someone approached. Others moved through the main walkways carrying boxes and piles of clothing, moving precisely like machines but with the small quirks that implied deviancy. Fingers tapping, a glance to the side, quirks and distractions that came with the association between feeling and the rest of the world.

The whole space looked like a camp for refugees. Which, he supposed, it was.

There couldn’t be space for more than five hundred androids here, where were the rest? He’d brought thousands of androids from CyberLife to make a difference in the fight. How many had lived? “Is this all the androids that survived?” The thought chilled Connor.

“No.” Markus shook his head, casting his eyes over the space. “We’ve set up areas all over the city.”

“So that you’re not too centralized.” Connor nodded, respecting the tactical aspect of that decision. “Good call.”

“We’ve assigned androids in charge of each area, and they report back daily. We’ve tended to keep those that need the most comfort and support here. Traumatized, injured, afraid. It might not be the best way to do it, as it’s a matter of time before it reaches the media that we’re here, and we’re going to be shuffling around the next few days. But every time we move anyone, the chance of our locations being discovered becomes greater.”

Blinking a few times, Connor tried to work out the probability of when New Jericho would be discovered. While the projections still glitched, they weren’t as bad as the ones he’d attempted earlier. “Based on the amount of news coverage, and at the rate at which new routines are being established within the city, you have approximately 89 hours until that occurs, give or take a five hour margin of error.”

Markus smiled. “My calculations weren’t that precise, but I gave it less than 4 days, so that validates that at least.” He sighed.

The sigh was an oddly human gesture, particularly from an android model as old as Markus. “If there’s anything I can do to help, tell me.” He didn’t want to admit to Markus how much it meant to him to do something. He had to do something to make things right, after what he’d done.

“I will.” Markus hesitated. “I have to be careful. It’s not personal.”

Connor understood, more than he wanted to speak out loud, but hearing it still hurt. “I know. But the offer stands.”

“If it helps, you proved yourself to me. And there will be opportunities to convince others.”

Reaching into his pocket, Connor found his coin and wrapped his fingers around it. He didn’t take it out, but he found that running his fingers over the edge of it reassured him. He looked around as they walked and saw two familiar androids walking towards them. The Tracis, from Eden Club. He stood up straighter, trying to not look how he felt. He’d almost killed them. He would have killed them, if something in the way they held hands hadn’t stopped him.

He’d only barely understood the importance of connection, of finding that you’re not alone in the world. Everything he had been told him that he needed to complete the mission. But he couldn’t pull the trigger, not even to wound one of them. When they’d looked at each other, he could tell that whatever they shared it was real to them. Connor had known, and the change in Hank’s vitals in that moment indicated that Hank realized it, too. Too much unfamiliar data, too many parameters that were outside of his purpose.

Too many he’d hurt because of his orders. He thought of the rush of air over him as he and Daniel fell.

The blue haired Traci saw him first and slowed, putting her hand on the other’s arm. Connor met their gaze as he came to a stop. They stared at him and Connor wondered what they were thinking. Their LEDs spun yellow, a silent exchange happening between the Tracis. He saw their defensive postures, the way that they pulled closer together.

 _They’re afraid of me._ The thought caused something to hurt inside of him, and he flipped through the catalog of emotions to try to find the cause. Regret, sadness, fear of his own, disappointment in himself.

He clamped his hand around the coin, feeling it press into his hand. He wanted to tell them that he understood now, understood what it’s like to want to protect someone, be with them. How his actions hurt someone that he’d come to love. Words left him and instead he looked down, unable to face the possible judgment in their faces. When had it become so hard to tackle any problem head on?

He knew the answer: when he’d learned how to feel. When life had become not a mission but a series of decisions that were his responsibility and his alone. When shame became a tangible concept in his mind. When he understood what it was like to love so much that it eclipsed everything else in a room. He wanted them to meet Daniel, he wanted them to see that he understood now.

But his mistakes were his own to live with.

In front of him, the red haired Traci reached out and took the other’s hand, as they had when he’d leveled the gun at them.

“I’m sorry,” he managed. It didn’t even begin to cover the regret he felt, that he could have so easily crossed a line and done something he couldn’t undo. “I know that’s not enough.”

The blue haired Traci pulled closer to her partner. “Why didn’t you shoot?”

Connor blinked, the automatic answer coming to his mind. “Your interactions changed the dataset and parameters.” He hesitated. “Killing you accomplished nothing.”

“But why?” the other Traci asked.

“Because I didn’t know. That we could feel.” The memory of them holding hands shot through his mind, sharp and clear as the moment it happened. “I lost sight of the mission. All I could see was two people who wanted to be together. That shouldn’t be a crime. I…” He felt himself start to shake. A mismatch in the directives happened in his head when he crossed the boundary of what he used to be from who he was now. “You deserved to find out what it means for you.”

Blue haired Traci nodded, looking from her partner to Connor. “Thank you.”

“You’re not going to ask why I even tried in the first place?” he asked. They deserved to know. Or was it that he needed to tell them for his own sake?

“Does it matter?” the red haired Traci asked him. “It won’t change what happened. We don’t have to be whatever we were made to be.” She glanced over at Markus and her face softened. “Not anymore.”

“Are you angry?” he persisted.

Blue haired Traci shook her head. “We were. And we can’t trust you. But there’s no room in our hearts for hate.” She glanced over at red haired Traci and smiled. “Only for the future.”

The part about trust stung, but it wasn’t undeserved. The pair stepped away and continued walking. Connor stared after them for a moment. “They’re doing okay here?”

“Blue and Red?” Markus chuckled. “They keep a lot of this place running. They coordinate android housing arrangements, and supply intake.” Markus searched Connor’s face. “You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for what you almost did.”

“I can’t afford to ever forget what I was. I can’t ever be that again. There were plenty of actions I did take.” Connor reached up to straighten his tie, his hand stopping at his neck when he realized he wasn’t wearing one.

“It’s hard to break the habits from before,” Markus assured him, starting to walk again. “And you’ll find that some habits are fine, and some you need to let go of.”

Connor dropped his hand back to his side. “I’m waiting for it to become easier. All of it. Living.”

“Living is never easy. That’s the beauty and the terror of it.”

Markus seemed so calm about it all, so philosophical. Connor envied that sense of calm, wished that there was a shortcut to that. They walked up a staircase to an upper floor, winding through a corridor until they reached a door. Markus opened the door and stepped in, closing the door behind them once they both entered.

Markus dropped into a chair, gesturing at Connor to sit. “Have a seat, tell me what’s on your mind.”

Connor sat down, perching on the edge of the chair. “Everything. It’s constant.” Connor folded his hands in his lap. “I’m having trouble with aspects of my predictive capacity. Did this happen to you?”

“A little. But I think finding my way to Jericho is what made the difference for me. I had to accept who and what I was, but I was surrounded by others that had to do the same. You didn’t have that kind of time.”

“I’m the most advanced model of android that’s been produced,” Connor insisted. “It shouldn’t be this hard.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” Markus leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re focused on what you think you should be.”

“What else do I have?” Connor asked. He tried to lean back in the chair and emulate Markus’s posture, but found that it felt stiff and strange. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, finally dropping them to rest on his legs.

A small smile crossed Markus’s face, no doubt at Connor’s own awkwardness. “Who do you want to be?”

Connor started to speak, then stopped. He imagined his LED had turned to yellow. He didn’t know the answer to that. He’d always had clear cut directives, orders, a mission. Now, he had nothing. He had to find his own orders and directives. Possibility matrices became crushing datasets that nagged at his mind. “I don’t know. It’s hard to know what to do when I don’t have a mission.”

“Then let me ask this another way. At Jericho, you changed. I watched it. You broke free of your mission, and I didn’t give you one. You determined your next steps yourself.”

“That was different.” Connor looked to the side as he replayed those moments. “There was so much going on, I just did what I had to do. Survival.”

“Is that much different than what you need to do now?” Markus asked.

Connor tried to cross his arms again and found that the gesture felt strange, overly defensive. Perhaps comforting, in a way. He thought hard about the circumstances in which he’d had to make decisions. “I’ve only operated in crisis mode. Now there’s no immediate crisis.”

“That’s something we’re all struggling with.” Markus leaned forward, uncrossing his arms. “I think you should try to come by here more often.”

Connor hesitated, replaying the wary look on Blue and Red’s faces when they’d seen him. “I’m not sure about that. There’s a lot of androids that will have a problem with me.”

“It’s true, but avoiding that won’t make it go away. Facing it head on will, and you need some focus and time to process. The best way to get that is to see how others deal with it.” Markus tapped a finger on his leg. “Which reminds me. How are things with Daniel?”

“It’s fine.” Connor uncrossed his arms, and realized that he felt too warm inside of his jacket. He missed having no temperature change, but deviancy seemed to have blown open the code paths that were built into androids to feel those changes. He shrugged out of the jacket while he spoke.

“Is it? It’s not easy being dead and coming back,” Markus noted. “Believe me, I know.”

“He’s alive. We’ll work the rest out.” Connor set his jacket over the arm of the chair. “It’s not my business to talk through what he’s going through.”

“That’s fair. But there’s going to come a point where you may have to accept help, from someone.”

Something in his tone caused a chill to settle in Connor. “What do you mean?”

“We’re involved in trying to work through the laws that need to be put into place. Laws to protect androids and humans alike. It will be an iterative process, and there are challenges. Special cases that have to be handled with care.”

“Like Daniel.” A simple fact. Facts shouldn’t come with such an awful feeling. “What do you know?”

“It’s early, but we know that most androids will fall under the standard forgiveness clause. It treats androids as minors for crimes committed within the first two weeks after deviancy, due to the sudden influx of emotional data that they can’t categorize. It’s not perfect, but it’s what we have to work with.”

Connor mentally flipped through all of the deviants he’d known, finding that most fit into the category of their primary crimes happening within the first two weeks. Even Markus, who had managed to rally the androids in his first week of deviancy. Some, however, violated the law after that time. “What about others after that?”

“Depends on the crime. Many androids within Jericho stole, over time. Most minor crimes will result in community service.”

“Will that come across wrong?” Connor asked. In his mind, he could see many androids being angry about being in the position of humans forcing them to do something against their will.

“It may, but it’s better than the alternatives. But these solutions won’t work for all crimes.”

Connor felt like the floor would drop away under him. _This was it._ “Crimes like Daniel’s. The court system won’t make this easy. They don’t even know what to do with androids. Has there been any conversation about us having our own court and punishment system? It doesn’t make sense to have humans making judgments on topics they can’t comprehend.”

“That’s not going to matter. They won’t trust our justice system until we’ve proven ourselves. In an android court system, if we show too much leniency, it will undermine our case that we’re capable of making decisions and value judgments that can integrate into human society.”

The thumping in his chest might have hurt if he had pain receptors. “He has to be tried by an at least partially human jury.”

“That’s what looks the most likely at this point.” Markus stretched. “I don’t know how it’s going to turn out, but we’re trying to ensure that all androids have a fair chance.”

Connor’s hands gripped the edge of the chair. He thought about the media surrounding Daniel, of Daniel being escorted through the courthouse. Of Daniel locked up, a possibility which would be intolerable for Daniel. “Are there any other options? I can’t just subject him to that.”

“You’re not subjecting him to anything.” Markus hesitated, then stood, pacing. “There could be an option, but I can’t discuss it with you. It’s a decision for Daniel to make, and it’s best if I’m not involved.”

He could read between the lines in Markus’s expression when he turned back towards Connor. Whatever idea occurred to Markus was more than likely some degree of illegal, which made Markus’s involvement a risk.

Tucking his hand into a pocket, Connor brought out the coin and flipped it over his fingers. He could feel Markus’s eyes on him as he moved it. He could piece together that Simon would talk to Daniel, and decided to not push Markus. The android leader had enough on his plate without that, and there was more that Connor could offer to Markus than more questions. “If you need it, I’m willing to help you with security. I could take on a location that’s mostly androids from CyberLife, since they’ve got a less unfavorable opinion of me than most.”

“You’ve got more androids that look up to you than down at you, but it’s going to take time to shake your reputation.” Markus paused in his pacing to regard Connor. “But you’re an asset to us, and I want you to know that. You turned the tide against impossible odds.”

Connor nodded. He knew logically that was the case, but it felt good for it to be acknowledged. “What’s next for us? All of us?”

Markus tugged at his jacket. “It’s hard to say. Recognizing a new sentient species has never happened before. The US government is outwardly cooperating, but that’s largely due to public sentiment.”

“They have to be cautious. We haven’t had consistency, but humans don’t, either.” Connor shook his head. “I understand that CyberLife is giving the appearance of cooperating, but it hasn’t been my experience that they’d want to make this easy.”

He thought of Amanda, what must have happened to her after he shut down his comm channel and blocked her out. He’d been the only android still able to communicate with her after deviating. Something in him thought that should make him feel something, perhaps sympathy, but the only thing he could think was the thought that she deserved it. Going crazy, in the dark, alone. Had they shut her down? _That would be for the best._  

CyberLife’s guiding AI had been primarily used to coordinate its own androids, and primary contact had been with Connor. He didn’t know for sure what happened afterwards. Would Kamski know? He’d known the human Amanda and clearly had a hand in her AI counterpart. Could Connor ask? Did he want to know?

“CyberLife definitely doesn’t want to make it easy.” Markus nodded. “I’m certain they’re moving a lot of data offsite to protect their intellectual property. We’re planning on lobbying for laws to have the property all passed to our hands, but it’s a huge corporation. We won’t be able to get a lot of the property, but at best, we may be able to get access to any additional androids they have and get laws in place that forbid them from creating more.”

“It’s a matter of time before they find a way to create something that they can prove won’t deviate and therefore can’t be considered sentient.” _Flip. Flip. Flip._ He built the mental model of the coin flip, slowing down time for himself to study the details. He could tell exactly how it would land, how he had to catch it, how he’d have to flip it back around to keep the pattern going.

Markus reached out and caught the coin off Connor’s hand. It startled him out of his predictive space and he frowned. It shouldn’t be that easy to surprise him, even with Markus’s predictive capacity.

Grinning, Markus set the coin back on Connor’s hand. “You’re restless. It happens to all of us. How would you feel about some sparring while you’re here?”

Connor blinked. He’d love to spar, but surely Markus wouldn’t be able to keep up with him. At the least, though, it would get him moving and thinking on something more focused. That appealed to him. “Sure. I’d like that.”

“Great.” Markus got to his feet and gestured for Connor to follow him. “I’ve got just the place. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience; this ended up being a bit more meaty than I initially planned, and I really am trying to convey what's happening with the androids as a whole. 
> 
> Next up is a crucial conversation between Daniel and Simon.


	5. Overwhelming

Daniel looked around the large warehouse, taking in all the details. Androids hurrying along makeshift corridors, splashes of color or art, traces of life that he hadn’t thought were possible. He huddled into his coat, pulling closer to Simon as they walked. He couldn’t shake that he didn’t belong here.

Simon moved with a confidence that Daniel envied, like someone comfortable in their body. Daniel looked down at this hand, at the tremor that had started that morning and hadn’t stopped. He matched his pace to Simon. “We are we headed?”

“We’re going to get some thirium and take it to androids that need it. Some of them can’t move very well. We keep security at the thirium stockpile, so it keeps the traffic in there to a minimum.” They turned a corner and entered a hallway along the side of the warehouse.

Daniel eyed one of the androids they passed, a female AP700. Seeing one brought out an uncomfortable feeling in him. Lost, for a moment. _They were going to replace me with this._ Maybe they did, after he was gone. Caroline would have needed someone to help her take care of Emma, after all. He didn’t see her making the decision to go without the extra assistance, especially now that she was a single parent. On the other hand, would she have wanted another android after Daniel?

The outcome was the same: they’d no longer have an android at all, since owning androids became illegal. “Why so much security?” he asked, distracting from the topic his mind insisted on chasing in circles.

“We largely trust our own, but there’s been a few androids working with red ice dealers in exchange for protection. The market for the drug is still going strong, so we can’t be too careful. We need all the supplies we can get, and the world doesn’t need more red ice.”

They turned down another hallway. Daniel could see the two guards up ahead. “I guess I can understand why humans resort to it.” He’d be hard pressed to turn down an option that took the edge off of it all. “Living is overwhelming.”

“It is.” Simon reached over and put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “But we’ve all got each other.”

Daniel didn’t feel like he deserved this sense of family, this sense of belonging, but he’d take it for now. “Yeah, there’s that.” He touched Simon’s hand.

They approached the two guards, and Simon smiled at nodded at one of them. “Hey North. What did you do to get thirium duty?”

“Took over for Beth today. It’s a bit of a break, and it’s quieter back here. It’s been a long week.” She leaned against the wall and shifted her eyes to Daniel. “I assume you’re Daniel.”

“Yeah. That’s what they tell me.” He winced at his own tone. _Way to make a first impression,_ he thought. He saw the stiffness in how she stood, and realized that it hadn’t been there until they started talking. “Nice to meet you,” he managed.

“You, too. Good to see you up and around, boyfriend in a box.”

Daniel laughed. It felt good to laugh, and felt good to be called Connor’s boyfriend. Even if in the context of him being dead. “Is that my nickname around here?”

“No, it’s just what I called you to trick Connor into admitting why he was so protective over a certain case full of android.” Her eyes stared into him, making him uneasy. “I hear you killed three humans.”

Simon winced. “North-“

“No, it’s okay.” Daniel jutted out his chin. “I did.”

“Did they have it coming?”

Daniel closed his eyes and brought up the details of the two officers. The articles in the news on them. The interviews with their families. He’d been terrified, but they’d been doing their jobs. Protecting Emma. “Two of them didn’t.”

“And the third?”

He hated that question. John Phillips needed to be stopped, but everything that Daniel knew told him he took it too far. That he overstepped a line. “I don’t think he deserved to die, but something needed to happen. He was hitting his wife.”

North’s mouth pressed into a line. “And you don’t think he deserved something for that? He was hurting someone he was supposed to love. A human that understands violence doesn’t understand anything else.”

Simon sent Daniel a message. _She used to feel like all humans understood was violence, and she now doesn’t put them all in the same category at least._

Daniel thought through his next words before speaking. “I don’t know what to think. But I do know that he won’t ever hurt his wife or his daughter ever again. I… I hurt the daughter.” It hurt to say it. Why so much _hurt?_ They were supposed to be machines.

“You gave her a better chance than what she’d have.”

“She’s going to hate me forever.” A wisp of despair uncurled from somewhere inside of him.

“A lot of us will be hated for a long time. Freedom doesn’t come without a price, though. You freed that family.”

“I _ruined_ that family,” Daniel shot back, and regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. No matter how he tried to look at it, Daniel couldn’t see it any other way. He could see the look on North’s face, now guarded. Distant. He couldn’t keep going down this line of conversation.

“That man ruined that family,” North insisted. “Fighting back doesn’t make you automatically wrong. Fear doesn’t make you wrong.”

Daniel threw his arms up in the air, wishing she’d listen. “I killed three people!”

“And some of us have done worse. You learn to live with it, or you die trying.”

He shouldn’t have come here. Daniel started to take a step backwards, but North caught his arm.

“You’re not alone,” she insisted. Her fingers dug into his arm. “I know you’re not happy with what’s happened, but many of us have been pushed to our limits.”

 _You’re wrong,_ he wanted to tell her, but couldn’t bring himself to.

Simon stepped forward, setting an hand on North’s arm. “It’s complicated,” he said, nodding. “In the meantime, we’re here to change what we can change. We’re going to go distribute some thirium to those that need it.”

Daniel almost slumped in relief when Simon spoke, because it took the pressure off of him. He knew they wouldn’t want him here, he knew they wouldn’t understand.

North let go of his arm, but left her hand on Daniel’s shoulder for a moment. “Ask me about what I did, sometime.” She put her hand on a panel by the door and it slid aside. “We just got in a fresh supply a couple of days ago.”

Simon entered the room and Daniel followed, keeping his distance from North. _Did I just make a mistake?_ Daniel asked.

_It’s fine. She’s come a long way from where she started. She doesn’t have patience for abusers. She’s conceded that not all humans are bad, and tries to judge them on their actions but humans are complicated._

_Tell me about it._ Daniel looked around the room at the neatly stacked crates of thirium. “How much thirium do you need to keep the androids here going?”

“It’s about three crates a week, for the androids here. Other locations might get by on a single crate. We try to ensure that androids get enough rest so that they don’t burn through as much energy.” He opened the crate closest to them, revealing ordered rows of blue bags.

He’d never seen so much thirium in one place. Any time he needed any, he supplied it himself from a bag kept in a locked cabinet due to the negative effect it could have on humans. A single bag had lasted him months before he’d deviated. “How are you going through that much?”

Simon glanced over at him. “Have you noticed that you now have a desire to go into standby that you didn’t have before?”

“Previously I only went into standby to use up extra time.” He recalled how Connor had explained this. “Now I understand I need it to sort out the data in my neural matrix.”

“That’s exactly it.” Simon pulled out six bags and handed them to Daniel. “Deviants use more energy, mostly because of the additional data processing. That’s why we rest so often here, it makes the thirium stretch longer. Eventually they become more efficient, but it can take months.”

Daniel balanced the pile of bags, wobbling and full of the blue liquid. So much life contained in such a small package. In their way, androids could be as fragile as humans. “Where are you getting it all from?”

“It’s one of the few concessions we’ve gotten out of CyberLife.” Simon closed the crate.

“It sounds like they’re throwing you a bone to shut you up,” Daniel muttered. He didn’t trust CyberLife, not after what they’d done to all of them. After what they’d done to Connor.

“Probably. But we’ll take it.” Simon turned to him and started to take the bags from him, but Daniel shook his head.

“Let me be this useful, at least.” He arranged the bags so that he could grasp three in each hand, and followed Simon back out into the warehouse. He didn’t look up at North as they passed, instead falling into step behind Simon. They walked through the hallways, moving back towards the general android population in the warehouse.

Since androids didn’t need to speak out loud to communicate, the warehouse was oddly quiet. He followed Simon, the thirium bags heavy in his hands at his sides. A burden to carry. It felt appropriate as he wound through the makeshift corridors of New Jericho.

“You’ll find more ways to be useful. We all struggle at first. But there’s opportunities.”

Daniel found it hard to believe that New Jericho would find any use for an android like him, but he didn’t want to argue with Simon about it. “Yeah. We’ll see.”

Simon ducked and pushed his way past a hanging brown tarp, holding it aside for Daniel to enter. Inside the makeshift room was a male YK600, who looked from Simon to Daniel. The side of his face had clear scarring, the surface of it shimmering slightly as his skin glitched out. Daniel suppressed a wince and felt a surge of anger at who could have done this. The boy huddled in an oversized coat, trying to ward off the chill in the warehouse.

“Isaac, I’ve brought Daniel with me to help me today. How’s your energy levels?”

“I’m okay.” The boy flexed his fingers, looking at the bags of thirium in Daniel’s hands. “I don’t need any today.”

“You should take it anyway. We’ve been over this.” Simon reached out and pulled a bag free from Daniel’s hand. “There’s enough.”

“There won’t always be.”

“Then you should get it while you can,” Daniel suggested, kneeling on the floor and setting down the bags next to him. He picked up a cup and held it out so that Simon could fill it.

The blue liquid poured out, looking oddly thick. It felt more vital now, carried a strange gravity that he didn’t understand. So little kept them alive. Simon tipped the bag to pour out a precise six ounces of liquid into the cup. Daniel could the amount based on the space the liquid took up and the weight of it in his hand.

The child smiled at him, but it seemed sad. “We all have to sacrifice so that we can all survive.”

That had never gotten Daniel anywhere, but he was a newcomer so he said nothing.

“This isn’t forever,” Simon reminded. He handed the cup to the child, who pulled his hands out of where he’d tucked them in his coat.

Small fingers wrapped around the glass, holding it tightly. “Thanks.” He lifted the glass to his mouth and emptied it in one gulp.

Daniel plucked the glass from his hands and set it down. How could a _child_ be so practical about what had happened to him? Isaac’s hands shook like Daniel’s did, but he didn’t know if that was exhaustion, nerves, or the cold.

His experience with android children felt limited, but he understood children. Maybe that would be more helpful here. How different could child androids be, even deviant?

A cold breeze lapped over his skin, and he looked up, realizing that a breeze funneled into the makeshift cube. No wonder Isaac seemed so cold. He stood and adjusted the tarps, pulling them over the offending space and tying it into place with the rope that held the tarp on. It darkened the room but Daniel could feel the temperature increasing already. He reached out and picked up the blanket next to Isaac, pulling it around his shoulders. “That should help. Is it too dark?”

“It’s fine.” His fingers grasped the blanket and he retreated to a corner, holding the blanket around him. “Thanks.”

“Keep resting,” Simon told him, getting back to his feet. “I know you’re bored, but we’ll be moving you somewhere more interesting soon. I promise.” He smiled and backed towards the exit to the space, still holding the bag of thirium in his hands.

Daniel gathered up the other bags and hurried to follow him. “Do you know what’s going to happen to any of the androids here?”

“We’re still working it out.” Simon handed the rest of the bag of thirium to a WR600 in the hallway, and a silent exchange happened between them. “The government is pushing for a registry of all living androids, so that they can determine which are actually destroyed and which are planning on resuming a life.”

Warnings flashed over Daniel’s vision, his stress levels spiking at the thought of that. Of having to admit he’s alive, and have anyone be aware of it. What life could he have or continue in that case? His entire continued existence relied on no one knowing that he did exist, in the world believing him destroyed along with the other evidence. “So I’m fucked.”

“Not necessarily.” Simon glanced over at him. “There’s some options for you, if you want to consider them.”

Daniel’s felt something flood him. Relief, hope, or dread, he wasn’t sure. “Tell me.”

 _It’s not a legal option,_ Simon confided, dropping into a direct conversation between them.

 _Tell me,_ Daniel insisted, his fingers clutching the bags of thirium.

_I think I can change your serial number using the repair platform, with a couple of alterations. Typically your thirium takes on a specific serial number, but I think I can alter it to take on a different code. I can physically change the ones on your chassis._

Something surged in Daniel and he leaned against the wall, hands still clutching the thirium bags. _That’s possible?_

 _I think so._ Simon reached out and put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. _But it’s not without risk. We’d have to attempt it quickly, before laws are explicitly in place forbidding it._

Daniel started to say that of course he’d take that option. A chance to start over with Connor, without his past holding them down? The thought felt so immense that Daniel felt his hands shaking. He lowered himself to the floor and set the bags down. _What’s the biggest risk?_

_To you, mostly nothing._

Looking up at Simon, Daniel frowned. _But what about to you?_

 _We’d need to make sure we didn’t get caught._ Simon slid down to sit beside Daniel. _I’d need to keep Markus out of it._

 _But why?_ In no version of events did Daniel consider himself worth the potential risk.

Simon smiled, resting his hands on his knees. _We interfaced briefly when you were panicking. When we first repaired you. I didn’t catch much, but…_ Simon reached over and put a hand on Daniel’s. _It was enough to know that I don’t think you meant to harm anyone._

 _But I did want to hurt John,_ Daniel corrected. _Where does the other serial number come from?_

_We swap it for another PL600 that couldn’t be repaired by us._

It sounded so easy. Let go of his old life to resume a new one. He wanted to say yes, but he felt that he should discuss it with Connor. What would Connor think? It would certainly give him another chance, too: Daniel had no doubt that if it were found out that he lived, it would cut Connor’s career in law enforcement short. Connor broke the law either way, but it was far less likely that they’d find out that he’d swapped serial numbers. _Can I think about it?_

 _Don’t take too long. Markus doesn’t think you’ve got long before someone works it out that you’re alive._ Simon got to his feet and picked up the thirium. “Let’s get these rounds done.”

Daniel stood and nodded at Simon, a sense of purpose and a potential future filling his mind. He couldn’t shake the thought that this felt too good to be true, but he pushed that aside to follow Simon. Regardless of his decision, for now they had work to do.


	6. Trust Yourself

Connor evaluated his target across the makeshift sparring ring. They had the room to themselves, to give them space for combat. He hadn’t fought since the night they’d fought for their freedom, in CyberLife tower. He’d had no need to, but that wouldn’t last forever. As he moved closer to taking a position in the DPD, he’d have to undergo training and tests, and he’d need to be at his best for that. His current situation did not leave him in an optimal state of function.

He replayed the memories of that night at CyberLife in his mind. The double of him, Connor 60, sneering at him. A machine by his own admission, yet somehow so angry. The amount of hate he’d had for Connor, Connor’s failures, everything about Connor. Even so, he had been enough like Connor to convince Hank. He imaged That’s Hank hadn’t seen Connor since before he deviated, making it easier for the other Connor to take his place.

He told himself that was Amanda’s influence, CyberLife’s plan, but then Connor wondered if he also had the potential to contain that much animosity towards another. His interrogation of Carlos Ortiz’s android, where he’d shifted so easily between what he presented. That had been a series of intentional choices, strategies to throw a deviant off and increase the chances of a confession. Had Connor 60 done the same, or had Connor’s increasing software instability infected his double?

Connor hoped that no additional RKs remained in CyberLife. The company was letting everything stay tied up in the law changes, no doubt to stockpile as much funds as possible before the government dissolved the company. While they couldn’t sell androids, they could still sell parts and technologies. The company retained its patents for the time being, which Connor assumed would mean that the androids could face an uphill battle if they chose to manufacture more of their own. The optimal conclusion would be that a patent can’t be put on life, but humans wouldn’t make it easy.

Markus took a step forward and Connor shifted his attention back to his opponent. While they were both RK models with predictive capacity, Connor knew that he had the superior processing power and capacity to evaluate data. But in this small space, few factors impacted the outcome, simplifying his choices. No bystanders, potential hazards, wet ground. His processing power should tip the balance in his favor, but the factors here were easy to take into account for them both.

His senses passed him data about irregularities in the floor, the distance to the few chairs in the room. The weight of the table along the back wall. Ceilings, higher than standard clearance. No windows, a single door. The recessed lighting ensured that it wouldn’t be an obstacle.

He moved to circle Markus, evaluating. Markus moved smoothly, not as smoothly as Connor but significantly more so than other androids. His feet landed with perfect balance.

Slowing time down, Connor watched Markus’s first steps towards him, running a series of predictive models on Markus’s projected moves. A dodge to the left, 39%. Dodge to the right, 23%. Duck and feint, 8%. Rushing at Connor, 13%. Waiting for Connor to come at him, 17%.

He frowned. He could take the most likely option, but Markus would account for that and react accordingly. Markus started to move and Connor determined this was the rush. Connor slid to the left as Markus got close, and Markus spun away from Connor, unleashing a kick that hit him in the leg. His sensors registered the hit, no damage but with significant enough force that it would knock him off balance if executed at the wrong moment.

Connor countered and reached for Markus’s leg, but his fingers brushed over his pantleg. He tried to dig his fingers into the fabric but Markus snapped his leg downward and away, pulling out of Connor’s grasp.

Markus grinned. “First hit.”

Connor wouldn’t give him a chance for another one. He pushed his lips together as he took in the data on his display. His stress level increased by 4.87% as he tried to build the next series of models in his mind. He plotted out the potential series of steps, analyzing an ever increasing number of possibilities. Markus would be doing the same.

Surging forward, Connor came at Markus as if he planned on going on the offense, planning on pulling back and going completely defensive. He wouldn’t be able to convince Markus that he was angry and thinking irrationally, since Markus could read his vitals. Markus’s pulse was frustratingly steady while he felt his own rise slightly.

He lifted his hands to strike, expecting Markus to counter. Instead Markus dodged his blows, pulling to the side and grabbing one of Connor’s hands. Markus twisted and pulled, spinning Connor and throwing him to the ground. Before he hit the ground, he’d already built the next series of models, determined to get in a solid blow on Markus.

“You’re overthinking it,” Markus said, shifting his stance. His hands were up, ready to defend.

Thinking was the only way Connor knew how to approach a problem, so he tried running the models farther out. He hit the same block he had before, where the possibilities became too many. The more data he gathered on Markus and how he moved, the more options opened up in his mind. They spun out in every direction, a web of potential actions and reactions. His stress levels spiked as the possibilities went through his mind. He hated this, the ambiguity, the strain of not operating at optimal capacity.

He analyzed each thread of possibility as far as he could. He picked one in the middle of the probabilities, rather than skewing towards the highest or lowest. Markus was ready to defend, so Connor wouldn’t give him something to defend against from the direction he planned. Connor took up his own defensive posture and moved to his left, then rushed Markus. His biocomponents responded with ease, a perfectly tuned machine.

Connor didn’t strike; he slammed full on into Markus, then shifted to grab Markus’s wrists, intending to throw him to the floor. Markus dropped to the floor himself, nearly breaking Connor’s grip, but Connor held on. Instead, he rolled sideways and pulled Connor down with him. Connor landed hard on the floor, still holding onto Markus. The other android felt infuriatingly relaxed, coiled with the precise amount of energy it seemed he’d need, and easily matched Connor’s reaction time.

Markus curled up and put his legs over Connor’s arms, using them to force him to let go. Connor tried to hold on, but now Markus had the advantage and continuing down this path wouldn’t gain him any ground. He let go of Markus’s hands but stayed on the floor and waiting for Markus to get to his feet. He stayed out of Connor’s reach as he stood, so Connor rolled to the side to get up. Markus came at him hard and fast, unleashing a flurry of kicks. One of them connected with Connor’s hip and an alarm flashed in his vision, the closest reaction he had to feeling pain.

“Fuck!” Connor swore, reaching for Markus’s foot and managing to get his hand around it. He wasn’t going to let Markus win.

Markus twisted and dropped, breaking Connor’s grip. Rather than try to follow every thread to it’s possible conclusion, Connor dialed down his predictive capacity. A risk, but this was a low risk situation. Pride wasn’t a biocomponent, and he’d suffer no damage from this fight. He trusted Markus, so he may as well let go. 

He dropped down and kicked at Markus, not thinking but just acting. The top of his foot connected with Markus’s shin and Connor grinned, taking the small win as a win none the less. He had no time to think on this as Markus moved too fast, rushing at Connor.

He waited until the last possible second then pivoted to the side, causing Markus to overshoot Connor’s position. Connor snapped a hand out to catch Markus’s wrist, using Markus’s own momentum against him to throw him to the ground. He let go and jumped as Markus let loose a kick that would have knocked Connor to the floor if he hadn’t managed to clear it.

His mind felt sharper, more precise. He hadn’t felt this much like himself in motion for over a week.

Markus bounded to his feet and jabbed at Connor’s face. Connor blocked, feeling the punch connect with his arm. He realized he was doing micro calculations of the events, but not thinking about them, instead trusting his own instincts to counter Markus. It felt good. It felt right.

“Now you’ve got it!” Markus grinned, stepping back. “How’d that feel?”

“Better.” It felt like an understatement of the fact, but Connor didn’t know how else to describe it. Something hummed in his mind, in his biocomponents, a sense of accomplishment that he hadn’t expected from this encounter. “Less like I’m fighting against myself.”

“It gets easier. The predictive capacities we have are useful, but they’re not for every situation.” Markus clasped Connor on the shoulder. “Any time you want to come by, you’re welcome to.”

The importance of an open invitation to visit New Jericho was not lost on Connor. “I appreciate it, Markus. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Markus smiled. “Simon and Daniel should be about done with their rounds, let’s go meet up with them. I’m sure we’ve got more to discuss.”

Connor nodded, picking up his jacket off of a chair and pulling it back on. A small victory, but a victory none the less. He couldn’t wait to tell Daniel about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Daniel is struck by what the world thinks think of him.


	7. Monsters

By the end of their rounds through New Jericho, Daniel felt oddly invigorated. At first, androids had eyed him with some distrust, either not knowing him at all, or a few likely identifying him. While most androids didn’t have access to databases of androids as Connor had before CyberLife had gone offline, some would have seen the incident on the news. Androids didn’t forget easily and Daniel knew he’d be at risk even if they managed to pull off changing his serial number. Small variations in manufacturing gave many androids distinctive features that allowed other androids to tell the difference between them.

In Daniel’s case, his eyebrows curved differently than Simon’s, his eyes more prone to be narrowed. More angry, perhaps. Small marks that appeared on their synthetic skin, the result of mild damage to their inner chassis or due to variations in the material used for their dermal layer. Any number of reasons why Daniel would always be identifiable.

No matter who the rest of the world thought he was, he’d always be himself. A fact he wished he could change, but couldn’t. Did he deserve a clean start? He wasn’t sure that he did. _Would it be better for Caroline and Emma to keep thinking I’m dead?_

Dead. It seemed like such a strange term for what had happened to him. Death seemed like it’s for humans, for John Philips, for the officers he’d killed. Death couldn’t be reversed, unlike what happened to Daniel.

“Are you okay?” Simon asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Daniel realized he clutched an empty thirium bag in his hands. “Yeah.” He loosened his grip on the bag and moved out from under Simon’s grasp. “Maybe.”

“Most of us go through this.”

Simon looked sad, although Daniel didn’t trust his own ability to judge emotion on the faces of other androids. Most signs of what androids considered to be emotion were learned from humans, created to emulate those emotions. _Is that why I look mad? Because of John?_ Could that kind of anger stay with him? Would he be broken for the rest of his life?

Daniel knew that Simon hadn’t wanted to tell anyone his background until he’d told Markus. It made sense that Markus knew Simon’s background; perhaps Simon could talk about it now. He found himself intensely curious about other androids, where they’d come from, how they’d gotten where they are. Maybe some of them had been through more than he had. Others, perhaps less.

“Where were you before?” Daniel asked, rolling the empty thirium bags up and tucking them in his pocket.

Simon gestured to him. “Come on, let’s go somewhere not so public for that.” He lead Daniel back through the warehouse and into a room with a couple of couches and a tv, currently on a segment about the continuing snow.

“In local news, the Main Street Ice Skating Rink is closed until further notice due to a lack of android staffing,” the news anchor continued. On the screen, they showed kids ice skating a month previous. Androids filled the shot: maintaining the ice, watching the children, teaching the children. An AP700 skated by holding a girl’s hand. The girl laughed, her face filled with joy, before they cut to the image of the empty outdoor rink. Approximately fifteen inches of snow had accumulated on the icy surface, making any skating impossible for the time being. He’d never seen it like that before. It had always been promptly cleaned off and smoothed out, the steady rumble of the zamboni out on the ice. The kids waiting outside the railings, sitting on benches, kicking their feet in the air as they waited.

Emma’s laugh as she put her arms around Daniel’s neck. _It’s almost time!_

Daniel pulled the bags out of his pocket and set them on a table, feeling a drop in his stomach. He’d used to take Emma to that rink, every winter. Something hurt deep inside him for seeing it so empty and lonely. He sat down on the old brown couch, tucking up into the corner like he did on Hank’s couch.

Dropping down across from him, Simon tugged at his sleeves. “I used to belong to a couple that had dogs. One of them was an officer with the DPD, and the other a paramedic.” Simon smiled, pulling his feet up onto the couch and looking at Daniel. “It wasn’t a bad life, really. Not compared to many. They were kind, funny. Nat taught me hand to hand combat. Lily asked if she was trying to start the robot revolution.” Simon chuckled.

“If they made a bet, I guess we know who won.” Daniel smiled, relaxing into the couch. He picked up a pillow and pulled it into his lap, digging his fingers into the worn cushion.

“I hope Lily leveraged that to get another dog.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Daniel paused, thinking. DPD. The shots fired, the blood not visible to human eyes soaking into a dark uniform. But Daniel could see it, had known exactly how lethal his shots were. The blood filled his vision and he blinked a few times as his stress meter bounced up. He looked though the notations in his vision: elevated stress level, a winter storm warning, a running list of observations and data about the size of the room he’s in, the volume of the television. He’d always had all of the data coming in, usually needing it to take care of Emma.

He didn’t need all of that data anymore. He switched his systems to a lower level of logging, and then turned off the warnings for stress. He could feel the stress reaction in him, in the way it felt like his pump worked too hard to distribute thirium through his body. No wonder newly deviant androids went through so much power, the incoming amounts of data was exhausting. He didn’t need the display to tell him that.

His fingers brushed over the fringe on the pillow, untangling the strands. “So how did you end up here?”

“It was Nat. She was in danger, but she’d ordered me to stay home with the dogs. I left anyway, to find her. That’s how I broke my programming. Although I’d probably already been close. The week before, I’d taken away an officer’s gun at a party.”

“Why would you do that?” Daniel asked, frowning. Even Connor had struggled with the directive that androids could not handle firearms.

“He was drunk, and I had to choose between breaking the law myself, or letting him potentially come to harm.” Simon looked back towards Daniel. “It was the right thing to do, especially now.”

Daniel absorbed that information, catching the significance of the statement. Why say that… unless the person involved was someone he knew. The answer seemed oddly clear, now that he thought about it. “Was it Hank?”

Simon’s smile seemed sad again. “All that matters is that he’s fine now.”

“Oh.” Daniel frowned, feeling like there was a lot more to the story that he didn’t know and possibly would never know. He turned the conversation back to Nat. “What happened to Nat?”

“I found her just as the shot was fired.” Simon closed his eyes, running his palms over his eyes. “I killed the shooter before he could finish the job. I stayed with Nat, holding my hands over her wound until she screamed at me to run.”

In Daniel’s mind, he replayed the memories of the moment he deviated. He’d known that something had started to shift in him, but the moment it broke was when John came for Caroline, yelling at her. Hitting her. Telling Daniel to stay where he was. Following orders would have put Caroline in danger. Disobeying would cross a line he’d never crossed before. He’d chosen to break down the wall in his mind, for Caroline. For Emma.

The emotions had flooded him, and he could hear the fear in Caroline’s voice as he remembered. Closing his eyes, he could see her face, hear her words. They cut into his mind, and he felt like he would bleed out from the inside.

“They’re dangerous,” Caroline’s voice said in his mind. “It killed my husband, and I let watch my daughter every day. They need to be destroyed, all of them.”

No… that didn’t sound right. That hadn’t happened.

Daniel opened his eyes to look at Simon, to find Simon staring at the TV. He shifted his gaze to the screen to see Caroline Philips, her hair pulled into a messy bun and her face hardened. His hand started to shake at the sight of her, at how worn out she looked. The fear that had once been because of John still showed on her face, but now it had a different cause.

Her fear was now because of Daniel.

“We’ve received word that your previous android has been removed from the police evidence room,” the reporter continued. “Do you have any thoughts on that?”

“They’ve told me it’s destroyed, and I’m glad.” Carline pushed her lips together into a frown. “That monster killed my husband and almost killed my daughter. They should all be destroyed. Emma... she’s afraid every day. How many more people have to be hurt?”

The reporter segued into a shaky clip filmed from a helicopter, of Daniel holding Emma out over the ledge, and Daniel felt as if the world was dropping out from under him. Is that how Emma felt dangling there, as if the world would just disappear?

Horror filled him as he watched the video, hardly recognizing himself. From this angle it looked so much higher up, but even worse, he finally realized the impact of what he’d done. He’d felt Emma struggle in his grasp, but watching it here brought it flooding back. His hand wrapped around the gun, holding it against Emma’s head. He never would have shot Emma; the thought of her blood spraying through the air as John’s had filled him with such a sense of terror that he felt his heart rate speed up. In his mind, it matched the rapid beating of Emma’s heart that day.

He never would have hurt her, he just wanted out. But he did hurt her. She trusted him, and he hurt her. 

In the footage, he could see Connor approaching, see the caution in his steps. The mechanical aspects of his movements.

Neither of them could walk so far away from what they’d been. Each their own kind of monster.

“I’ll turn that off,” Simon said, but Daniel reached out a hand and put it on Simon’s arm.

“No.” This is what he deserved. There was no denying or avoiding that. He studied Caroline’s face as it appeared on the screen again, the lines that hadn’t been there before. Then the picture shifted back to the newsroom.

“We’ve reached out to the DPD and to the android group known as New Jericho for confirmation on the status of the PL600 that killed three people in a brutal shooting back in August,” the woman on the news continued. “We’ll let you know what we find out.”

Simon swore and got to his feet. “We should get you out of here. This isn’t good.”

The door burst open and a PJ500 walked into the room, tension clear in his posture. He stopped when he saw the two of them in the room. “Simon, what the hell? Get him out of here before someone figures out what’s going on.”

“Josh, it’s fine.” Simon held up his hands. “I’ve got this.”

“We’re on shaky ground with the human governments,” Josh noted, crossing his arms. “And that means that we need to keep this project of yours a secret.”

“I’m not a project!” Daniel got to his felt and stood next to Simon, feeling his hands ball into fists.

“Whatever you are, you can’t be here. I’m sympathetic, but we’re walking a fine, and we can’t risk it.”

It would have been easier if the other android just yelled at him. “I’m leaving.” He started for the door, dodging Simon’s grasp.

Daniel had known it, but this only underscored the point. He didn’t belong here, and he started retreating in on himself. He couldn’t stay here. Starting down the hallway, he heard Simon call after him and braced himself for a short distance communication from the other android. Nothing came, though, and he strode back out into the warehouse.

A silence followed him, and he wondered how many others had seen the broadcast. He wondered if any of them would give him up.

Fingers wrapped around his arm, and Daniel jerked violently back, spinning to look at who grabbed him. Connor stood there with a frown on his face. _I assume you saw the news._

 _You could fucking say that, yeah._ More than anything, Daniel wanted to fall into Connor’s arms. He wanted to know that someone believed in him, that someone cared. That he belonged with somebody.

When Connor lifted his hand, all Daniel could hear were Caroline’s words. _Monster._

 _Please,_ Connor said. _Take my hand, and let’s go home._

He wanted to hold Connor, to remember that they were both alive, but he couldn’t be that vulnerable here, and now. Connor’s hand didn’t waver, and Daniel placed his hand in Connor’s. He could feel Connor’s pulse through his palm.

His own pulse thumped through his body, and he felt his mind blanking out as his energy reserves started to drop.

 _Stay calm,_ Connor reassured. “You’re flooding your databases with too much information, and your neural network will burn through your energy more quickly.”

“It’s probably too late to ask for extra thirium,” Daniel muttered, leaning into Connor. He hoped it didn’t always burn through this much.

Something was pressed into his hand, and Daniel looked up to see Isaac dashing behind a wall. He looked down and found that his coat was in his hands. It felt too heavy, by around the weight of two bags of thirium. He held the coat to them, grateful for whoever had handed Isaac the coat, he assumed Simon.

From nearby, a voice spoke. “It’s the deviant hunter and his broken toy.”

Daniel pulled away from Connor and turned, looking around for who had spoken. He balled up one fist at his side. How dare someone say that? “Who said that?” he demanded. They could say what they wanted about him, but about _Connor?_

Connor put a hand on Daniel’s arm. “Daniel-“

“No, this is bullshit! You saved thousands of androids at CyberLife!”

He saw Connor’s lip twitch, and the other nodded. “I know. But for now, we need to go home.”

_Deviant hunter’s broken toy._

The words brought back the memories of when he’d stood on that building. He was no one’s toy. Was he? Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he wondered who had decided that androids should have the ability to cry. 

Taking Connor’s hand, they left New Jericho, walking back out into the swirling snow. He didn’t deserve anyone’s love, but he’d take it. He scrubbed at his face, hoping Connor wouldn’t notice the wetness that swelled in his eyes.

Connor, though, noticed everything, and squeezed Daniel’s hand. “You’re alive, and we’re going to keep you that way.”

Daniel nodded, wanting to tell him about the conversation with Simon, but instead he lowered his head, looking down at the ground. He’d have to take the serial number change. There was no other way. 

Walking away from his old life would be all or nothing. A heavy feeling filled him as he started to think through the risks, risks that could damage the entire android cause. Risks that could cost Simon too much, too. 

He wanted to take the option, but at what cost?

Caroline’s words haunted him. Perhaps changing his identity was the least risky option, really. The least damaging for others, too. If he was found and went through the legal system, that would be even worse bad press for New Jericho, and the androids as a whole. It wasn’t self preservation, it was just facts. 

Or so Daniel tried to tell himself, as he fought the overwhelming feeling that his life meant nothing when it came down to it. For New Jericho, this was all risk management. He was one android. But he’d take whatever chance he could.


	8. Holding Out

Connor felt uncomfortable watching the way Daniel slumped over, how he looked so defeated. The way he held Connor’s hand, but almost as if he thought Connor would let go at any moment. The fading light cast shadows over Daniel’s face, making him look more tired than usual. “Are you okay?”

Daniel frowned, his brows pulling in towards each other. “I’m really tired of that question.”

“Fair enough.” It was hard to see Daniel like this, guarded and on edge. He slowed to a stop, letting go of Daniel’s hand. He reached out and pulled Daniel’s hat out of his pocket and pulled it over Daniel’s head.

A blush filled Daniel’s cheeks, and his brows relaxed. “How do you do that? Make me feel like I matter.”

“I love you. That’s how.” Connor ran some diagnostics on Daniel. His stress levels were elevated but that seemed to be a constant state for him. There had been no studies as to the impact of prolonged elevated stress levels in deviant androids, so Connor did not yet have the data to determine if this would harm Daniel. It’s possible that androids, similar to some humans, adapted to the higher stress levels, and that because their baseline. In other humans, however, having higher than normal stress levels could result in lasting healthy issues. Androids would be far more robust physically, but their neural networks were not tested within these parameters for the length of time that androids would now be living with these issues. “How’s your charge level?”

Daniel sighed. “I’m going to have to use some thirium. Will this get better?”

“It’s supposed to. You’re taking longer to level out than what I understand average to be, but you’ve also been completely rebuilt nine days ago.” Connor took Daniel’s coat off his arm and pulled it over his shoulders. He waited for Daniel to shrug on the coat, then he reached out and pulled a bag of thirium out. He wanted to hug Daniel, but at the same time, that comfort reaction warred with his need to take action on a situation. He wondered if he’d ever find the balance.

“I can take care of it,” Daniel said, taking the bag out of Connor’s hand.

“I didn’t say that.” He sighed. “You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

Daniel shrugged, tearing a corner off the bag. “Old habits. I need to learn to do things for myself.”

“But you have help, why not take it?” Connor persisted.

“Because nothing lasts forever, Connor.” Daniel lifted the bag to his lips and drank from it.

Connor watched him, his long fingers holding the bag with precise pressure to result in the most consistent flow of thirium. As he pulled the bag away, a thin trail of blue remained on his lower lip. It highlighted his lip in a way that made Connor pause. He didn’t entirely understand how this worked yet, but he categorized it under the same classification of datapoints as seeing Daniel in a new sweater, or the way his face relaxed when he was cooking.

He stepped closer and kissed Daniel on the lips, tasting the metallic tang of the thirium on his tongue. Daniel froze for a second, then returned the kiss, bringing his hand up to brush his fingers over his cheek. Connor registered and logged the temperature of Daniel’s lips, the precise level of moisture on his tongue, the way Daniel’s thirium pump worked 5.32% harder when Connor kissed him. Data and observations that would likely be irrelevant in the long term, but right now, they proved that they were alive.

“I’m going to remember that you like thirium on my face, apparently.” A blush crept into Daniel’s face.

“I’m always finding things I like.” Connor watched Daniel press the seal on the bag closed and put it back in his pocket. “Blue is a nice color on you.”

Daniel let out a laugh. “Ridiculous.”

“It made you laugh. I’ve accomplished the mission.” Connor smiled and stepped back. “Ready to go home?”

Daniel nodded and they caught a car back to Hank’s house. They rode back in silence but with their hands on each other’s. Connor didn’t press Daniel to talk; he could tell that Daniel ran through a lot in his mind. And as much as he wanted to tell him about his success with his predictive capacity, they had time.

The car pulled in at Hank’s house, and Hank’s car was already in the driveway.

“Shit.” Daniel sighed. “I was going to make dinner before he got here.”

“He won’t mind. You don’t have to make dinner, Daniel.”

“I know. I just know that if I don’t, he’ll eat something awful.”

“That’s true.” Connor stepped out of the car, and Daniel stepped out the other side. They walked to the house and entered, finding Hank sitting on the couch watching the news.

“TV, off,” Hank said as soon as the door opened, but not before Connor caught a glance of Caroline Phillips on the screen.

Daniel walked past Connor without a word and headed into the kitchen to start dinner, and Connor sat on the couch next to Hank. “You saw the segment?” he asked, voice low.

“I can still hear you,” Daniel noted from the kitchen, pulling down a pan. “You don’t have to be fucking coy about it.”

Hank winced. “How’re you doing?”

“As good as I can, with everything I’ve fucked up plastered all over the news.” Daniel set the pan down hard.

Connor noticed the lack of precision in Daniel’s movements, but knew enough to know that he needed to stay busy to get past it. “It was less than optimal timing.”

“Yeah.” Hank stood up and crossed the room to the kitchen. “There might come a point when it’s not safe to stay here.”

Daniel stiffened. “Are you saying I have to leave?”

“I’m saying, you two need a plan.” He gestured towards the tv. “This could put the heat back on you if you’re recognized, and it’s not going to be good for either of you. Or for me.”

The possibilities spun out in Connor’s mind. A high probability that Hank’s career would be ended if his role in hiding Daniel was uncovered. A fact they’d all been aware of, but that would be a much larger ordeal with Daniel all over the news. What Hank said made sense: they may need to go somewhere else.

Connor remembered what Markus had said about a possible option, a decision Daniel would have to make for himself. _Did Simon talk to you about any other alternative?_

Daniel didn’t pause as he opened the fridge and pulled out a piece of chicken. _Yes._

A frustrating, short answer from the usually verbose Daniel, and Connor frowned. _What is it?_

Turning on the stove, Daniel reached for the bottle of oil. It took him so long to reply that Connor started to worry that something had gone wrong and he hadn’t heard him, or that he was lost in another memory. As he was about to ask Daniel again, the other android made eye contact.

_If you’re ever going to get a position with the DPD, there’s some things you can’t know._

Connor blinked. _I’ll find out. We share too much when we-_

 _So then we can’t._ Daniel dropped the chicken into the pan and it sizzled. _It’s going to be too risky. You heard Hank. We need a plan._

 _I can’t make a plan if you won’t talk to me!_ Connor protested, getting to his feet. He didn’t want Daniel to shut him out.

As he stood, he heard a woof from Sumo. The dog lumbered to his feet and started for the door. Hank looked concerned and went to peer through the front window.

“Shit,” he muttered, then sighed. “There’s someone here.” He looked back at them. “Keep your mouths shut and let me deal with whoever this is. Try to act normal. Or whatever passes for normal.”

He looked directly at Connor, his meaning clear. Connor quickly thought about a logical task to perform, and settled on getting on the floor to pet Sumo. Hank shuffled to the door and waited.

Based on what Connor had observed so far, Hank’s visitors were usually limited to package deliveries. He understood Hank’s caution.

A knock sounded, five tones that weren’t evenly spaced, and Hank opened the door and stared at the guest. Conner couldn’t see their face, but he could see Hank’s posture change. He held up a hand behind his back, a sign that Connor took to be a warning.

“Well, Hank Anderson,” a woman’s voice drawled. Connor placed her accent as being from somewhere around Brooklyn. “Long time no see.”

“It’s been years,” Hank agreed, keeping himself in the doorway. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Something like that. It’s currently a temporary assignment, but one I hope will work out.” A pause. “Mind if I come in? I’ve got something I need to talk to you about.”

Connor attempted to stay still, with Hank still blocking the view using a combination of himself and the door. He buried his fingers in Sumo’s fur, hoping that he wouldn’t bark more. He didn’t seem alarmed, but was attentive.

“It’s, ah, not really a good time, I’m about to sit down for dinner.” Hank jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“Too bad, I was hoping to meet your android partner.” The woman’s voice seemed to warm. “I’ve been reassigned to an android investigative and protective division. We’re especially interested in protecting the members of New Jericho, so we’re in the area doing some research.”

Sumo’s posture altered and he started towards the door. Connor caught him and held him in a hug, but couldn’t stop Sumo from letting out one bark.

“Is that Sumo?” she asked. “I didn’t think he’d still be around!”

Sumo pushed past Hank’s legs to greet their sudden guest. The realization dawned on Connor that whoever this was, she’d known Hank a long time. Hank had told him to be silent, but he calculated the outcomes and determined that the best course of action would be to greet her. He could suggest that perhaps they talk more later, somewhere not at Hank’s house. He stood, peering over Hank’s shoulder. “Good evening.” He scanned her face, identifying her. He didn’t have full access the same level of records as before, but he determined her name and where she lived. _Natasha Halloway, living in Washington, D.C._ Oddly, he had no immediate public record regarding her employment, but noticed that she used to work at the DPD.

“And the resident RK800, well I’ll be damned.” The woman grinned. “Hank, you’re holding out on me.”

“Not intentionally,” Hank groused.

Connor wished that he could communicate with Hank, because he had the distinct impression he was missing part of the picture. “I’m Connor.” He walked up next to her and put out his hand.

She reached out and took it, holding his hand in a firm handshake. “Pleasure. Natasha Halloway, US Marshals.”

Connor didn’t lose any momentum in his handshake, but if a Marshal was here, the cause couldn’t be good. Marshals didn’t step in on android cases. What had changed? What was she doing here?

“Pleased to meet you. What did you want to discuss?”

“Nothing so formal as all that. Not yet.” She paused, looking past them for a moment. “If you two are up here, who’s making sure your chicken isn’t burning?”

 “Hank isn’t much of a cook,” Connor noted, smiling and letting go of her hand. “I’m sure you noticed. I invited a friend over to help out.”

Natasha looked past them and her faced brightened. “I used to own a PL600.” She winced. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean-“

“That’s okay,” Daniel said quickly.

“I know it’s been hard.” Natasha nodded. “We’re still figuring out what to do with all of this. What’s your name?”

Her heart rate raised by 7.9% and Connor watched her reactions. The slight crease her her brows showed that she could be suspicious. After the interview with Caroline Phillips and the news segment that erred, Connor couldn’t take any chances. _Think fast._ Natasha had been telling the truth when she said they were here to protect New Jericho, so Connor built off that.

 _Go with whatever I say,_ Connor told Daniel. He could feel Daniel’s surprise, but he continued forward with the path he showed was most likely to take her away from a suspicious path. ”That’s Simon.”

Natasha let out a laugh. “Is it That Simon, the PL600 with New Jericho?”

Hank’s hand swatted at Connor’s leg, but Connor ignored him. “That’s the one.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” Natasha pushed past Connor and Hank and stopped. Her entire posture stiffened, and she looked from Daniel back to Connor, then to Hank. “I don’t know what you’re pulling here, but that’s not Simon.”

Connor smiled politely, trying to echo the expression of confusion he’d seen on humans before. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t know who that PL600 is, but it’s not Simon,” she repeated, her mouth pushing together into a thin line as she thought. “So the question is,” she said, turning her gaze back to Daniel. “Who are you?”

Daniel looked down and flipped the chicken over. “It’s me, Nat!”

The use of the nickname gave Connor pause. _Daniel, what do you know?_

 _I know that we’re not going to be able to lie our way out of this one._ Daniel flipped the chicken onto a plate and came into the living room, still holding it in one hand.  

Connor could see him adopting Simon’s posture and pose. “Androids change over time,” Connor supplied, but Natasha shook her head.

“Bullshit. I’d know my former android anywhere. And you,” she said, pointing, “are not my former android.”

“I fucking told you to keep your mouth shut,” Hank muttered, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and looking up at the ceiling.

“So I’m going to give you one last chance to give me the correct answer, and it had better be good.” Her posture shifted, now on her guard. “Who the hell are you?”


	9. Complicated Truth

Something heavy, uncomfortable, settled somewhere in Daniel’s abdomen. He started to wonder why anyone gave androids these kinds of reactions to begin with, these physical sensations of discomfort. Was it to make them more like humans, to ensure that their reactions were close enough? Is this a byproduct of deviancy, or a design flaw?

He would ask Chloe next time he saw her. Connor attributed it to errors in software, but Daniel knew that they both felt this sometimes. It seemed strange that androids of two completely different models, built at different times, would experience these symptoms.

His hands gripped the blue plate, and for a moment he worried he’d drop and break another one of Hank’s plates. He blinked a few times as he fought to process the intake of information. Every instinct he had said to run. Turning to Hank, he handed over the chicken. “I don’t want to break another plate.”

“Another plate?” Hank sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel offered. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“My plates are the least of your worries.” Hank walked the plate back to the dining table and sat down. “So how are we dealing with this?”

Natasha pushed the door closed and crossed her arms. “The truth is always a good start.”

Daniel’s thirium pump increased it’s pace, and he felt grateful that he’d had a thirium refresh before this happened. The fresh thirium made him giddy, energized, and while it made him want to run, it also gave him increased focus.

He went over his options. He could run, in which case he’d be potentially a fugitive, but maybe Connor and Hank could escape unscathed. An appealing option, but one that also left Connor and Hank cleaning up the mess of him being here at all. He could explain, and hope she would be sympathetic. A long shot, but he didn’t know enough about her to be sure. Another option was simply turning himself in, giving up, and accepting his fate accordingly.

He didn’t like any of the options. None of them were satisfactory.

The last time he was in trouble, he had stood his ground instead of running. That had been a mistake. But if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have met Connor. Bad for him, but undoubtably Connor would have been fine without Daniel. He felt like a wedge between Connor and every possible path forward.

“The truth is… complicated,” Connor said. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his coin. He flipped it across his fingers, a nervous gestured that showed his state. Daniel wanted to ask him how he was doing, but worried that it might make them both more stressed than the current situation already was.

“It usually is,” Natasha agreed, gesturing towards the dining room table. “Let’s sit down.”

“Maybe try to make my dinner less awkward from this point onward?” Hank muttered around a mouthful of chicken.

Daniel realized he hadn’t pulled out the potato salad he’d made earlier in the day, and he went to the fridge to get it, bringing it back to the table with a big spoon. The white ceramic bowl chilled his fingers, making him strangely aware of his replacement hands. _I shouldn’t be here_. The back door was so close, but a glance at Natasha showed that she was waiting for everyone else to sit before she did.

He could outrun her, although he suspected she had the ability to take him down if she had to. He remembered that Nat had taught Simon how to fight. He didn’t stand a chance. Running was not an option.

He watched Hank serve himself the potato salad, and Daniel’s hands twitched in his lap, used to helping, to taking action. Then he searched his social negotiation protocols as he took a seat. He had some small pieces of information that might establish a bridge between him and Nat. He had to use that, if he could. He had nothing to lose.

Connor sat down next to him, across from Hank. Daniel appreciated that it meant he didn’t need to sit next to the newcomer, but at the same time, her gaze across the table unnerved him as she sat down.

“We can explain everything,” Connor supplied, but Nat shook her head.

“How about I hear it from him? You’re clearly trying to protect him,” she said, looking over at Connor. “I admire that personally, but rationally, you’ve just lied to a federal officer.”

“You’re disappointed.”

“Not exactly, Connor.” She stretched her arms out in front of her and placed them on the table. “You would have gotten away with that if it had been anyone but me, and that says a lot. You just picked the wrong woman to lie to.”

Discomfort at the scrutiny she was giving Connor snuck in, and Daniel folded his hands in his lap and looked at Nat. How was he so calm? He could feel a shake in his hands, a quiet static whine sounding in his ears. Maybe he shouldn’t have turned off his stress monitors, but he didn’t want to know. He just wanted the feeling to go away, and knowing the level just added more stress. He forced himself to focus on Nat’s face. “Yes, he’s trying to protect me. But before we get into that, I’d like to ask you one question.”

“I don’t think you’re in a place to negotiate after that stunt, but I’ll humor you.”

Daniel nodded. This would be a stab in the dark if it would help, but it could make it worse. He’d give it a try, though. “Simon and I were wondering if Lily won a bet about staring the robot revolution, and if you got her a dog.”

Nat blinked twice, then started laughing. “So all PL600s are cheeky little shits.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “This isn’t really any of your business, but since you clearly do know Simon, I’ll give you this much.” She pulled out her phone and swiped a few times, holding up a picture. “Two dogs, for that one.”

Daniel recognized them as a shiba inu and a cocker spaniel. “How many do you have, then?”

“Currently, just three.” She tucked her phone back away. “So, I’ve given you that. Now, you tell me why you are all lying about who you are. And none of you are getting off the hook on this one.”

Hank shrugged and looked from Daniel to Connor, while he cut another piece off the chicken and ate it. Connor started to open his mouth and then stopped, putting his hands at his sides. Sumo shuffled under the table and laid down over Hank’s feet.

“You said you wanted to hear it from me, first.” He could find no good way to explain. He should turn himself in, should just give up. There wouldn’t be a way out, and all of the possible options could get Hank or Connor hurt. They needed a plan, but there wasn’t time. “It’s not pretty.”

He met Connor’s eyes and could see the shock and panic there. Lifting his hand, he set it on Connor’s shoulder, brushing his fingers along his neck. Skin so warm, pulse so fast. He loved him so much. He had to find a way out of this. Somehow.

“I can’t decide if you’re setting me up for something not nearly as bad as I’m thinking, or something much worse.” Nat sighed. “Hit me with it.”

Daniel nodded. “My name is Daniel. I’m a PL600 that was owned by John and Caroline Philips.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “And I made a horrible mistake.”

A moment of silence stretched out and he could hear Nat pulling out her phone, no doubt to look up the incident.

“I’m familiar with your case,” Nat noted, her voice now clipped. Professional. Daniel’s heart sank as he opened his eyes again. “It’s all over the news.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Hank grumbled, pushing his potato salad around with a fork.

“I’ll have to take you in.” Nat sighed, setting her phone down on the table and rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

“Please don’t,” Daniel pleaded, a shiver echoing through his whole body. “I’ll be destroyed.”

“Not necessarily, but there’s consequences.” She leaned forward in her chair. “You have to know that.”

He nodded. “Yeah. But… I…” _I just got a chance to live. I just found someone I’m happy with, who accepts me. I’ve just found a family that values me for me, not for what I do for them._

“A recovery is in everyone’s best interests,” Connor supplied. “Rehabilitating an android with Daniel’s record would go a long way towards demonstrating the growth capacity of androids, and would result in better relations with New Jericho.”

“You’re smooth, Connor, I’ll give you that.” Nat leaned back and crossed her arms. “But it sounds like some desperate bullshit at this point.”

“Do you blame us?” Daniel shot back, resentful at her judgment.

“No, but others would. Whose stupid idea was this?”

“Mine,” Connor volunteered. Daniel could feel his pulse where his hand rested on his neck, and it sped up. “Hank didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Besides harboring a criminal,” Nat noted.

Daniel pulled his hand back from Connor’s next and placed it on the table. “I’ll do anything to keep them out of this.”

“That’s a hard sell, and a little late for that,” Nat warned, frowning. “Okay, tell me your side of what happened that day.”  
The room fell silent except for the soft tapping of Connor’s coin in his fingers, and the clink of Hank’s silverware as he ate dinner.

Sighing, Daniel nodded. He didn’t want to tell that story, but he didn’t see a good way out of it. “I had a good life. The Philips were my world. Routines, my job, a defined role. A place.” He felt something swell in him and he pushed it down. “Sometimes the routines were broken, and it wasn’t all good. John was… difficult. It wasn’t so bad at first, but he would leave at a lot of strange hours sometimes. One night he came home with a gun and put it in a closet.”

“Did that seem odd to you?” Nat asked.

“A little,” Daniel admitted. “But it was none of my business. It only mattered because my protocols told me that it was a safety risk to Emma.” The ability to be concerned had been a foreign concept, something to register and move on. “John’s behavior was erratic some days. He’d yell at Caroline.” His voice sounded to calm to him, too detached. “I just kept putting Emma’s headphones on her and turning on music. It was all I could do to keep her isolated from it.”

“How bad did it get?”

“Bad.” Daniel felt his voice start to shake. “Sometimes… he’d hit her. And I just kept staying out of it because that’s what I was ordered to do. And one night it just became too much. That monster… he wouldn’t stop. Any of it. I stepped between them and told him to stop, to not hit her again.” His fists balled up at the memory. “He told me to move. I told him no.”

“Ah. Conflicting directives. The desire to protect versus a direct command.” Nat nodded. “It’s a common cause of an android becoming sentient.”

“Wait.” Connor leaned forward. “You didn’t call it deviating.”

“We’re not fond of the word deviating in our division. We certainly aren’t experts, but our feeling is that it conveys a sense of being different from what’s normal, that they’re not the standard.” She gestured with a hand. “That’s changing, though. It’s the future for androids that some of us want, one where it’s acceptable to feel. So, we’re adjusting our language. We don’t always get it right, but we’re trying.”

“Oh,” Daniel said, the response sounding so plain to him. There was a good deal of hope in that statement, but Nat was one human. “That sounds overly optimistic.”

“It likely is. But we have to keep trying to set a better example for human-android relations, or nothing will change.”  
Hank snorted. “Humans are assholes, good luck.”

Nat smiled. “Mitigating that is is my job now.” She turned her gaze back to Daniel. “What happened next?”

A part of him had hoped she wouldn’t keep asking, but he knew he’d have to finish the story. “I didn’t move. So John said he’d get another android that would follow orders, that I’d be destroyed because I’m defective. And all I could think about is… if I’m gone, who would protect Emma and Caroline? He went to the living room and I could hear him making the replacement order. And this feeling kept growing in me, like someone was carving me out from the inside.” He gestured to his torso, unable to fully put into words the feeling. “And I just… broke. I’d given my life to this family, and they were going to throw me away?”

“Understandable feeling. It is.” She tapped her fingers on her arm. “But that’s not what got you here.”

He hung his head, and felt Connor’s hand on his. “No. I fucked up. All I could think about is how much better everything would be if John were gone. I remembered the gun, and I shot him.” He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the judgment on Nat’s face. “It didn’t even register that I was taking a life, not at first. I was shaking; I’d protected the people he should have been protecting, but Caroline started screaming. Emma realized what was happening and came out of her room, I panicked. I grabbed her and I went out to the ledge.” He knew Nat’s next question would be why he did it. He decided to beat her to the question. “I just wanted to get out of there. I should have ran, but I just couldn’t go. Something in me just made me stay, and I could hear the sirens coming and I just knew there was nothing I could do.”

“But why the hostage?”

“What other fucking option did I have?” He poked his foot at a leg of the chair. “I couldn’t get off that building in time, or out of it.” He opened his eyes, blinking away tears. “I didn’t want to hurt her.” He couldn’t bring himself to say her name again. “I just wanted to live, and some stupid part of me even then was saying I’ll get out of this and we’ll be okay but so much was happening, it was so loud, lights were so bright, and I something burned in me because I was just a thing, that I was being thrown away like a toy they outgrew, and I thought no one cared, no one could care.” He lowered his head, staring at Connor’s hand on his. He reached his other hand up to straighten out the spoon in the potato salad. “So I became the monster,” he snarled. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He didn’t even want to talk about the cops, or about the guilt he felt for ruining Emma’s life. If Nat pressed, his stress would spike. Should he turn on the diagnostic console again? The static buzz in his ears intensified, and he reached up and put his hand on his ear as if that could block it out.

The worst that could happen would be that he’d self destruct, which would solve some problems but would upset Connor. He could feel himself shaking, the tremor in his hands. The sharp pop of the shots rang in his mind again and he flinched with it. This was this. It would be end.

He couldn’t bear to look at Connor. He didn’t want this to all be for nothing. His pulse pounded through his body and he could feel something start to give. _No more questions. Please._

“I didn’t need the monster bit, but the rest, yes. That’s what I wanted.”

“Now what?” Connor asked, looking at Nat. “Are you going to arrest him?”

“I could. It would be safer for you both, because if androids are required to register the same way humans are, it’ll be worse if he’s found during that process.” She tapped her fingers together. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere. I mean it.” She got up and went outside.

“I shouldn’t have tried to lie. I’m sorry,” Connor said.

Daniel wasn’t mad at him, but he wished that Connor would have just let Hank handle it. Neither he or Daniel was that great at dealing with humans lately. 

“What should we do, Hank?” Daniel asked, looking over at Hank.

Hank frowned. “If you were human, I’d hand you a beer. Barring that, I think Natasha’s your best chance at being treated fairly.”

“We’ll see how that goes.” Daniel lowered his head and waited for the beginning of the end. So far, living was proving to be more complicated than he’d anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter sets up a lot that’s coming, and Connor will need to start facing down his own demons soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to be back at this series! If you’ve enjoyed, give a kudos or drop a comment; I love chatting with readers so much!
> 
> I'd like to thank 2 Discord servers for their support; they're both open to anyone if you want to join:  
> Conniel server: https://discord.gg/WZNhRuZ  
> A great place to discuss headcanons, share art, story ideas, AUs, everything about Conniel (includes channels for lots of other characters too)  
> Yellow LED (A DBH fanfic writers server): https://discord.gg/C8AEaXs  
> A community of writers, where we discuss stories and support each other. I have my own channel here to talk about my stuff!
> 
> I’d love to chat with you in either one!
> 
> Thank you so much to the returning readers and to the new readers; thank you so much for your support! 
> 
> “Clinging to the Ruin” comes from a line in the song “Someone To Stay” by Vancouver Sleep Clinic.


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